


Abnormality

by wicked3659



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Violence, Psychological Torture, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, Torture, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins have a secret relationship. Prowl discovers this and it unexpectedly turns his life upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Voyeur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pl2363](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pl2363/gifts).



> Written for kink meme request here:  
> http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14707349#t14707349
> 
> Interfacing is done to share and update Cybertronian coding as well as for fun and pleasure and so twins interfacing only with each other is considered abnormal in this version of their society and is frowned upon. Twins are usually separated as sparklings to prevent such occurrences and strong bonds between them. 
> 
> Prowl is a specialised model and as a result could not interface as a young adult mech as this would corrupt his base coding. 
> 
> This concepts are based upon one of ante_luce's fics here:
> 
> http://ante-luce.livejournal.com/79898.html
> 
> The concepts in this fic are used with her kind permission.

The red mech hissed as his back scraped against the metal wall of the Ark. Then he broke into a laugh as he was pinned there by strong black hands that roamed all over his body, knowing exactly where to stroke and touch him to get him to gasp and moan wantonly.

Not one to be defeated, Sideswipe pushed back and grabbed the other mech’s shoulders, turning and slamming him into a stack of nearby metallic crates, that clanged and scraped as they shifted at the force. Pressing up against golden plating, Sideswipe mouthed and bit at the throat of the other mech, who let out a throaty moan, helm arching back as he gave himself to Sideswipe.

Grinning with his victory, Sideswipe slipped a hand between his brother’s legs and pawed at the heated panel. “Open, you know want to,” he purred against his audio, turning his helm to lick up a helm fin, slowly, deliberately.

Sunstreaker gasped and complied. It was only for Sideswipe that he would submit himself. Nobody else had this kind of trust from him, nobody else had truly earned it. His panel slid open, revealing an online spike, that had a bead of lubricant on the head, which Sideswipe promptly smeared over his spike with his thumb.

They were currently engaging in their tryst in the cargo bay, which was nearly always abandoned and at the very back of the ship, in the basement levels. The door however, did not have a lock and the thought that they could be caught, only served to turn both twins on more. Sideswipe pointed out that it was all part of the fun. The red twin was especially fond of finding places to ‘face his brother where being caught or seen was a distinct possibility.

There were other reasons they were engaging in interfacing in the cargo bay rather than in a comfortable berth - something which Sunstreaker preferred as he was certain the metal had scratched his paintjob - their relationship was a secret and had been all their lives.

Interfacing on Cybertron was done to exchange data, a mech or femme’s coding upgrading every time new information was contributed. It was also mutual fun. From being younglings, up into adult mechs, Sunstreaker had been entirely disinterested in interfacing with strangers. He had been a naturally pensive, slightly paranoid youngling, caused by their early abandonment and now only trusted Sideswipe. Well, enough to share data with him.

Sideswipe on the other hand was carefree and quite happy to share a berth with decent prospects. He wanted good data after all. He never got attached though, never interfaced with another more than twice. Afterwards, as soon as was possible, he would find Sunstreaker and they’d happily frag each other’s bolts off. Sideswipe could only share parts of the data he’d received and so Sunstreaker’s coding developed at a much slower pace than his own.

This was why twins interfacing was widely discouraged and frowned upon throughout Cybertronian society. Twin coding was virtually identical, there was nothing new they could contribute to each other through interfacing, coding would stagnate, remain unchanged and the individuals would not develop or mature properly, in many cases causing glitches or malfunctions. Thanks to Sideswipe’s berthing habits however, their glitches consisted of only parts of their personalities being heightened beyond the norm. For Sideswipe it was his relentless restlessness, his need to play the prankster and his overly positive demeanour. He could out chill Jazz on a good day. Very little fazed him. Basically, Sideswipe was  almost normal, so didn’t turn a helm when he entered the room. Sunstreaker however, having only received a fraction of the data that his twin had, had barely changed over the vorns. His personality as a result of the lack of coding development was a lot more skewed than most.

He was considered by many to be psychotic. That was a partial truth, he was in fact borderline sociopathic and paranoid as well as extremely vain and conscientious about his appearance to an obsessive degree. His enticing appearance lured mechs and femmes while his unpredictable and reputedly violent personality scared them. Sunstreaker’s reputation preceded him. Most tended to avoid him rather than risk getting on the wrong side, which suited him just fine.

Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, as a result of their feelings for each other hadn’t expanded their knowledge or been able to gain much new knowledge as their coding hadn’t received enough new data and so they had honed their skills as fighters. Having fought in the gladiator pits, they were considered among the best hand to hand fighters on Cybertron. On their own they were dangerous, together they were lethal.

Once the war started, their skills became valued, sought after by both sides. They had their reasons for joining the Autobots and they kept them to themselves. Though if their secret relationship was ever discovered the Autobots were certainly less likely to kill them for it. The war had also hidden the fact that beyond fighting and routine tasks, there wasn’t really much else they knew how to do. Were they discovered however, Ratchet would undoubtedly demand that they interface with more than just each other for their own good. Being young mechs, their coding was still developing and open to changes, it was just neither really wanted to expand that much, or share data with others via interfacing. In Cybertronian society this was highly unusual and as with many things misunderstood, it was vilified by some and ridiculed by many. It was hassle they could do well without. They liked who they were and didn’t care what others thought of them. They were still the best, especially in Sunstreaker’s processor.

That thought came racing to the fore of Sunstreaker’s processor as he cried out with pleasure. Sideswipe had, without warning, spiked him hard, jarring his awareness as his valve stretched and adjusted slowly to compensate.

Chuckling softly, Sideswipe mouthed his brother’s helm fin. “Keeping you in the moment,” he purred lustfully.

“Impatient glitch,” Sunstreaker growled, grinding his hips against his eager brother, enjoying the darkening of his optics and the low moan that escaped his vocaliser.

“Primus,” Sideswipe breathed as he felt Sunstreaker’s valve squeeze his spike. He was doing it deliberately. Teasing him. He loved it. Grabbing his brother’s hips, he met his brother’s wanton gaze and hiked him up the crate slightly.

“Frag, watch the paint!” Sunstreaker cursed, only a hint of animosity in his tone.

Sideswipe simply grinned and tucked his arms under Sunstreaker’s legs, spreading them obscenely wide as he rolled his hips slowly against him. Glancing down he groaned as he watched his spike sliding in and out of that enticing valve. “So hot like this,” he growled deeply, kissing his brother fiercely.

Sunstreaker gasped and grunted as the kiss broke. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he smirked, his mouth falling open as Sideswipe began to pick up his pace. “Frag, yes… Sides’ just like that!”

“Love it when you beg me.”

“More… frag… I’m going to beat your helm in if you don’t frag me hard right now!” Sunstreaker snarled, his fingers curling into red plating.

Not wasting any more time teasing his twin, Sideswipe rocked his hips sharply and in no time at all, was pounding his brother into the crates with abandon. There were no more words as they indulged in each other. Only their pants and groans, along with the scraping of metal against metal could be heard in the cargo bay.

Sunstreaker came undone first, his body arching off the crate, his helm thrown back, mouth shaped into a perfect O as he overloaded with a sharp gasp, followed by a whimper, his whole body trembling. Sideswipe followed suit soon after, thrusting hard, burying himself completely into his brother’s tight valve as his spike jerked and exploded. He roared out his overload, muffling the sound into his brother’s shoulder as he stiffened and clung to him, his hips rocking erratically as Sunstreaker’s valve milked his spike dry.

Fans whirring, the twins took some time to come down from their blissful high. They chatted idly and joked with each other as they cleaned up, even sharing a tender, lingering kiss, before finally vacating the cargo bay to return to their regular lives.

Neither mech noticed the pair of brightly glowing optics, nor saw the shadow of a Praxian shift as his doorwings quivered on his back. Stepping out silently from behind a full rack, Prowl stared at the now closed door, his face a confused mixture of disbelief, shock and embarrassed arousal.

****

The ping hit the twins’ comm channels in the early hours of the morning, well before their shift and not long after they’d hit the berth for recharge. Cursing drowsily, Sideswipe responded first. “What the slag is this?”

Sunstreaker scowled deeply at his brother. “Seems you left too much of you at the scene, told you we should’ve tried my idea.”

Pulling a face, Sideswipe heaved himself up to sitting and shrugged. “If you ask me, it was totally worth it,” he threw a lopsided grin at his brother who huffed grumpily back at him.

“Well now we’ve been ordered to explain ourselves, so much for the unsolvable prank,” Sunstreaker stood and stopped short of the door to their quarters. “That’s… new…”

“What?” Sideswipe asked before he received the exact same message. “Huh, Jazz never deals with disciplinaries, what gives?”

“I don’t know, maybe Prowl blew a fuse or something this time?”

“Nah… the prank wasn’t that bad….” Sideswipe suddenly looked worried. “Was it?”

Sunstreaker could only shrug, he honestly had no idea. The order had come from Prowl but they had been referred to Jazz’s office. Any change to Prowl’s routine was enough cause to make mechs stop and head tilt but the up-tight, former enforcer, renowned aft, not dealing with punishment detail was definitely cause for concern in the twins’ books.

Their pranking had been more relentless of late, but they had been bored and with regular ‘facing out of the question; they had resorted to the next best thing to blow off steam. Neither twin could define what it was about Prowl that made them target him so often but there really wasn’t any malice in their intentions. If they were honest, both brothers secretly enjoyed the attention from the stoic black and white. This time, however, it seemed to have backfired.

****

Arriving at Jazz’s office, the twins waited for Jazz to wave them in. The office was a stark contrast to Prowl’s. There were datapads, everywhere, along with weapons, music, a different coloured visor, a musical instrument and a couple of cubes of half drunk energon. Sunstreaker’s mouth twisted at the mess and he stood stiffly at Jazz’s desk. “We were ordered to see you?”

“Yeah, my mech, just hang on a klik,” Jazz replied, nose deep into a datapad he was staring at with more concentration they’d ever seen on the officer. Giving a satisfied hum, Jazz punched in his signature and put it to one side. Looking up at the twins, he grinned and waved for them to sit down. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

“Not a clue,” Sideswipe responded just as casually.

Laughing, Jazz sat back in his chair, hands clasped over his middle. “Come on now, we all know that you’re the prank masters on this base and even if there are others, there isn’t anyone else who’d dare prank Prowl, in his own quarters.”

The twins remained silent, they’d been called up on enough disciplinaries to know when to keep their mouths shut.

Chuckling, Jazz shook his helm, “Alright, play it that way,” he leaned forward on his desk, visor pinning them both to their chairs. “You should know that Prowl is in the medbay.”

Sunstreaker stiffened at that and Sideswipe’s grin faded.

“I was hoping it was you two, so then we wouldn’t have to keep searching,” Jazz continued with regret.

“Searching for what?” Sunstreaker asked quietly.

“Oh, the paint bomb that exploded, caught Prowl’s and paint got in the hinges of his doorwings, he needs them stripping and cleaned out but Ratchet needs to know what type of paint was used, so he can make sure there’s nothing left. I’ve heard that contamination in a Praxian’s doorwings can be pretty bad, not to mention painful,” Jazz whistled in sympathy as he explained.

The twins shared a look and Sideswipe frowned at his brother.

“It was oil based,” Sunstreaker muttered finally. “Made from Earth materials.”

“Thanks!” Jazz replied brightly. “And as you’ve owned up to the prank, I’ll only give you two days in the brig and Prowl has requested his quarters be cleaned, so you’ll be doing that first.”

Mouth twisting in concern, not really caring about being caught, again, Sideswipe spoke up. “Prowl’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”

“What?” Jazz frowned in mild confusion. “Oh… Prowl’s just fine, he needs a slaggin’ good clean and he’s fragged off, strangely more so than usual, but he’s fine.”

“You lied,” Sunstreaker bit out in irritation.

“I embellished,” Jazz grinned. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d cave so quickly. Must be a soft spot for Prowl in you yet,” he chuckled.

“I hate you,” the golden mech uttered sullenly, no real animosity in his voice. Sunstreaker was honestly more fragged off that they’d been so easily duped.

Jazz laughed and moved to gather up some cleaning supplies. “No you don’t.” Handing the supplies to the twins, Jazz’s visor seemed to glow brighter with his amusement. “I’m sure you know the way.”

Huffing, Sideswipe got to his feet but paused before leaving. “Jazz, how come Prowl isn’t dealing with this himself?”

Jazz shrugged. “He didn’t say, mech was pretty pissed though, I’d maybe avoid pranking him for a bit if I were you.”

Sunstreaker ushered his brother out of the office quickly. It was better that they get this over and done with sooner rather than later, at least then he could sulk in the privacy of the brig.

“Can’t believe we fell for that whole Prowl being in pain thing,” Sideswipe commented absently as they made their way to the Praxian’s quarters.

Sunstreaker grunted noncommittally. “Don’t prank him to hurt him,” he pointed out quietly. He punched in the code they’d hacked and the doors to Prowl’s quarters opened, revealing a rainbow of colours splattered over the floor, walls and even the ceiling.

Sideswipe’s grin returned. “Wow, worked better than I expected.”

Swatting his twin’s helm, Sunstreaker pointed to the ceiling. “Alright smart aft, just how do you suggest we clean that slag off the ceiling then?” he frowned at his brother’s bright optic’d expression. “What?”

“I just thought of something better to do,” he threw a devious smirk at his twin and tugged him closer.

“You can’t be serious!?”

“Completely,” Sideswipe smirked, before silencing his brother’s protests with a heated kiss.


	2. Frustrations

Prowl had spent the best part of the day in the medbay’s private wash rack. He would’ve used his own but he couldn’t be certain it hadn’t been bugged too. There were still flecks of paint in his joints but they would eventually flush out with repeated washes. Heading to his quarters after finally giving up on an entirely unproductive day, Prowl couldn’t stop his processor from wandering.

The twins had been the focus of his wondering processor in the days since he’d accidentally caught them interfacing in the cargo bay. Their relationship, although a surprise, had cleared up a few things about the twins’ personalities that had concerned him when they had signed up to the Autobots. That was now the least of his concerns.

He’d always found the twins attractive (who honestly didn’t?) yet he’d always managed to maintain his professionalism and push the thought to the back of his processor. It was irrelevant. After the cargo bay, though, he’d found himself thinking about them more and more and couldn’t get the sights and sounds of them in the throes of ecstasy out of his head. It was frustratingly distracting.

Pausing at the door to his quarters, he sighed, annoyed at himself and how he was reacting to the situation. Thanks to the rigidity of his specialised base coding, Prowl occasionally obsessed. Interfacing had never been an option for him when a younger mech. Introducing new coding could have corrupted the specialised coding he was created with. Now he was older he could technically interface as much as he wanted as the coding was set and any new coding would be stored as tactical information. Prowl had indulged once or twice but then had simply chosen not to indulge any further. He didn't see the point. It didn't however eradicate the infuriating needs he and every mech had.  

Avoiding the twins entirely was going to be impossible, yet Prowl didn’t think he could bring himself to be in the same room with them and still maintain his iron composure. He was still a mech after all, though many chose to forget that fact.

The doors slid open and his spark leapt and fluttered in his chest at the sight of red and gold before him. His optics drifted from the sight of Sideswipe on all floors - his aft directly in his line of sight as he cleaned his floor - to the stretched out frame of Sunstreaker as he stood atop a set of ladders and scrubbed the ceiling of his quarters.

“Oh hey, Prowl!” Sideswipe called out, glancing over his shoulder, before pushing up to standing, brushing himself off as he turned to face the black and white. “We’re nearly done, sorry about the mess and all,” he grinned cheerfully.

Tense, Prowl stepped inside. His sensors swept over the room passively and along with paint and cleaning solvents, there was the distinctive buzz of a recent charge in the air and the subtle tang of cycled mech fluid that caressed his olfactory sensors and he had to forcibly stop his optics from staring inappropriately, in the knowledge of what the twins had done in his quarters. “You may leave.”

“But we’re not done!” Sunstreaker called out, pausing his cleaning of the ceiling with a frown.

Frowning slightly as he stepped around the paint marks on the floor and taking the widest route away from Sideswipe as could without it being ridiculous, Prowl shook his helm. “My shift starts early in the morning, return then,” he stated tersely, not meeting their confused gazes as he surveyed their efforts.

Huffing indignantly, Sunstreaker climbed down from the ladder. “We’ll be in the brig for two days after this though.”

Prowl glanced up, unable to stop his optics brightening as they met Sunstreaker’s earnest gaze. Of course the golden mech would want to finish the cleaning job but as the golden mech’s mouth pursed into an almost annoyed pout, Prowl couldn’t shake the image of that same mouth parted and crying out with release. “It doesn’t matter then,” he replied quickly, too quickly. He could feel himself becoming flustered as they continued to stare at him. “Forget it, thank you for your efforts, I’ll finish from here, you’re dismissed.”

Sideswipe frowned and put down the cleaning supplies. “Hey, you know we didn’t mean anything by the prank, right?” he reassured, thinking that Prowl was still fragged about it.

“Doesn’t matter. Please just go,” Prowl repeated, his doorwings rising on his back, his face unreadable.

“Fine,” Sunstreaker responded tersely, dumping his cleaning cloths on the nearby desk and marching from the room.

Sideswipe just frowned at Prowl, not sure why the mech was being more uptight and weirder than usual and silently followed his brother out, leaving Prowl alone.

Sagging against the wall, Prowl groaned out his frustration once the doors had slid shut. He was not an inexperienced nor innocent mech by any means but when it came to overly attractive mechs, or personal, intimate situations, Prowl had never outgrown his anxiety. He was an introverted mech by nature and matters of the spark flustered him, whether he liked it or not. This had led to him not having much fortune when it came to him being attracted to someone. Never mind two someones and two someones who were as appealing and desired as he knew the twins were.

Besides it was clear to him now that the twins were intensely into one another, no matter how frowned upon it was. It put him in an awkward position professionally. Being second in command, Prowl knew it was his duty to report their activities to Ratchet and Prime so the twins could receive proper guidance and help to expand their interfacing options, especially as they were still relatively young mechs. Prowl however, had been unable to bring himself to do just that.

In fact, he hadn’t told anybody about what he’d witnessed. What he hadn’t been able to figure out was why he was keeping their secret. Was it out of a misplaced sense of loyalty or something more that he couldn’t bring himself to admit?

In either case, logic had been thrown entirely out of the proverbial window.

****

Sitting in the brig, both twins scowled at the floor. “Was it me, or was Prowl being really… weird?”

Sunstreaker pursed his lips. “Even for him, yeah,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve never really fragged him off before though.”

“You think we did this time?” Sideswipe asked, glancing at his brother. “Because I don’t know, seemed like something else was bothering him to me.”

Shrugging, Sunstreaker leaned back against the wall. “Don’t know him well enough to guess,” he answered. “We should get some recharge, make the most of these two days,” he added. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once we get out, was probably just something on his processor.”

“You think he knew?”

“Knew what?” Sunstreaker glanced at Sideswipe. “That we ‘faced in his quarters?” he shrugged and dropped his helm back to the berth. “Don’t know, maybe, not like he can prove it though, we cleaned up.”

“Yeah,” Sideswipe nodded, putting his hands behind his helm as he laid back, stretching out his frame on the narrow berth. “Gotta admit though, ‘facing in his quarters was fun.”

Sunstreaker snorted a laugh and lightly kicked his brother’s foot from his own berth. “You’ve got a one track mind.”

“Don’t hear you arguing.”

“Get some rest you goof,” Sunstreaker smirked, offlining his optics. It had been fun. It was still incredibly arousing. Just knowing that it had been Prowl’s quarters and he could’ve caught them at any point and that he possibly knew about it now. The golden mech couldn’t decide which part of that thought he found the most arousing but it warmed his interface array just thinking about it.

****

In the days, leading to the weeks, following their brief incarceration, Sideswipe became convinced that Prowl was being uncharacteristically, odd. He couldn’t however prove it and Sunstreaker was mostly indifferent to his suspicions. There wasn’t much they could do about it either way, so why spend the time dwelling on it, was his thinking. Sideswipe however, was getting increasingly agitated by it.

While they had never been friends, the twins had had a give and take relationship with Prowl, they pranked him, he disciplined them and then had pointed out how and why they had been foiled. When Prowl came to the rec’ room for his regular daily energon, he’d occasionally sat with them, if they’d been around and made idle conversation. They had never minded his company, if anything, Prowl was a refreshing change of pace from their usual. The mech had always maintained professionalism around them but he had always been civil, polite and Sideswipe would even say pleasant. Now, he’d gone from civil politeness to outright avoidance. There was just no way Sideswipe could prove it, without looking like a disturbed and paranoid individual.

Sitting in the rec’ room at the end of their shift, Sideswipe was scowling, his arms folded, his brow furrowed into a deep frown.

“Seriously, Sides’ you’re thinking about this way too much,” Sunstreaker tried for the umpteenth time, to reason with his stubborn brother.

“You don’t think it’s weird that he completely ignored our last prank?”

Sunstreaker sipped his cube and gave a one shouldered shrug. “Maybe he didn’t figure it was us?”

Levelling a deadpan glare at his brother, Sideswipe vented air loudly. “Really?” he asked dryly.

“Alright, no, I think he knew fraggin’ well it was us and decided to ignore it for whatever Primus damned reason. Can you tell me why Prowl, of all mechs, would forgo disciplinary action for a prank that resulted in Teletraan playing the Cybertronian coronation theme every time one of the officers walked into any of the communal areas?”

“He’s avoiding us,” Sideswipe declared resolutely.

“But why?”

“I don’t know!” the red mech retorted in frustration, his helm thumping on the table as he wilted in his seat. He sat up quickly when the topic of conversation entered the rec’ room. “But we should find out.”

“Sides’,” Sunstreaker warned quietly. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The rec mech was already on his feet and marching over to the black and white, before Sunstreaker could stop him. The golden mech did not see this ending well. He watched as Sideswipe stopped beside Prowl at the energon dispenser and he frowned when Prowl’s doorwings fluttered, then flicked sharply before returning to their stiff posture on his back. “That’s… new…” he murmured to himself. His frown deepened when Sideswipe stood in Prowl’s path and kept asking him what was wrong as the mech tried to navigate around him, without so much as a side glance in his brother’s direction. Sideswipe was lucky it was late and that the only others in the rec’ room were the minibots, who tended to ignore them as a rule. The red mech didn’t do tact well.

“Whoa!” Sunstreaker shot up out of his seat when Prowl suddenly bodily shoved Sideswipe away. Being the larger mech, Sideswipe only stumbled back into the dispenser, with a look of shock on his face at the sudden aggression. “What the frag?” the golden frontliner demanded, grabbing Prowl’s shoulder and spinning him around to face him. “He was only asking you a question!”

Prowl looked as visibly shocked as Sideswipe did and stepped backwards away from both the twins. “You both just need to leave me alone,” he stated sternly.

“Prowl, what have we done? Is it the pranks?” Sideswipe asked in confusion, coming to stand beside his brother. “We can stop if they’re bothering you that much…”

“Just do what I asked!” Prowl snapped. He scowled and glared down at the floor. “Better yet, I order you to stay away from me.”

The black and white shoved his way past them and Sunstreaker felt a shimmer of flustered frustration and embarrassment from Prowl’s energy field as it flared out before the mech could stop it. Sideswipe made to follow him only for Sunstreaker to grab his arm and tug him back. “Let him go.”

“But, Sunny--”

“--Sides’, not here.”

The red mech relented and sighed. “You think I’m still being a paranoid glitch?”

Sunstreaker shook his helm. “There’s definitely something up but he needs to calm the frag down and we need to go speak to Smokes’ before we confront Prowl.”

“Smokes’ why?”

“Doorwings.”


	3. Missing

Prowl had resisted the urge to run to his quarters. He honestly didn’t think he could embarrass himself much  more though. Locking the door once inside, he let out a growl in frustration. His behaviour had been appalling and completely illogical. The twins didn’t know that he knew about them, they didn’t know he’d seen them, so why was just being around them so difficult?

At first it had been fine; he’d kept contact at a minimum and pushed his highly inappropriate thoughts of the twins to the back of his processor, while on duty. It was when he was off duty though that he could not stop thinking about them. It had gotten him so wound up and frustrated that he’d ended up indulging himself while in the wash rack. Primus damn his relentless coding that forced him to go over and over details he knew should be changed. The twins interfacing should have been reported but he just couldn't do it and as a result of him disregarding the rules of their society and his secret physical attraction to the frontliners, he could not stop thinking about them.

He’d imagined their hands touching him, their mouths on his plating and around his spike, just like he’d seen Sunstreaker do for Sideswipe. It had been so very wrong overloading to the thought of them and yet had felt so wonderfully right. It made his spark pulse harder in his chest and that had been the moment Prowl had realised his own infatuation. He was besotted and at a complete loss of what to do about it.

Illogically, he had chosen to ignore it completely in the desperate hope that it would just go away. It had had the opposite effect. Whenever he saw them now, his spark raced and his interface array heated up, embarrassingly fast.

Leaning back against the wall he groaned. No matter what they made him feel, his behaviour had been unconscionable. Pushing Sideswipe the way he had though was tantamount to suicide by twin and he counted his blessings that Sunstreaker hadn’t actually punched him. Optics dimming, Prowl cursed himself, his coding and the twins and that fragging cargo bay. He had to regain control of himself or get himself stationed on another continent for the foreseeable future. At the moment he was definitely considering the latter option.

****

Smokescreen frowned as the twins accosted him and ushered him to a private room. Was this the twins’ method of propositioning a mech because if it was, he was not averse to it. “Mechs what’s this about? I am on duty so I can’t be away from my station long.”

“Yeah, we know, this won’t take long, just want to ask you a question,” Sunstreaker replied quickly.

Hiding his mild disappointment that neither of the twins seemed remotely interested in more, he nodded. “Okay… what about?”

“Doorwings,” Sideswipe answered with a lopsided grin.

“Doorwings?”

“More specifically, what doorwing movements mean,” Sunstreaker clarified.

“Yeah, I’m not following,” Smokescreen shook his helm in confusion.

Sunstreaker’s optics seemed drawn to Smokescreen’s own doorwings as he spoke. “Yours move more than Prowl’s but Bluestreak’s move more than yours, right?”

“Uh… yeah? Prowl’s don’t move because he has more control over his feelings and stuff whereas Bluestreak has virtually none.” The twins shared a look, that Smokescreen couldn’t decipher.

“What does it mean when doorwings flutter?”

“Flutter?”

“Yeah, kind of like this,” Sideswipe crudely demonstrated with his hands.

Canting his helm, Smokescreen shrugged. “Could be any number of things, depending on the circumstances.”

“Explain,” Sunstreaker demanded earnestly.

“Um, okay… if the ‘bot seems happy when they flutter, then they’re really enjoying themselves. That one is sort of obvious though, Bluestreak does it all the time. They can also flutter when overcharged, as control is lowered. Also they can flutter when stressed to the point of exhaustion, sometimes Prowl’s do that when he’s not recharged in a while,” Smokescreen hummed thoughtfully, “OH! Flirting, Praxians flutter them when they’re flirting, you know to make themselves noticeable,” he smirked. “Something which has worked well in my favour.”

Sunstreaker frowned. “No, it can’t be any of those, isn’t there anything else?”

Smokescreen frowned. “I’m really going to need the context of when this happened and with whom.”

Sideswipe glanced at his brother and shook his helm.

“Do… no, can they flutter when afraid?” Sunstreaker asked.

“Not really, they tend to go still, they can when suffering anxiety though. I remember when Bluestreak still had his nightmares his doors wouldn’t stop fluttering, even when he felt okay. Is this about Blue? Is he alright?” Smokescreen asked suddenly with a frown.

“Anxiety… huh that sorta makes sense,” Sideswipe mused to himself thoughtfully.

“Okay, seeing as you’re not going to tell me, just describe the exact movement you saw.”

“They lowered to the middle, when Sides’ was asking a question and then fluttered before rising and going stiff, like they’d been pinched or something,” Sunstreaker explained.

Smokescreen nodded in understanding and smirked at the twins. “That’s easy! That’s attraction, or arousal. Probably attraction though if Sides’ was only talking. Are you saying Blue’ is attracted to Sides’?” he grinned mischievously.

Sunstreaker clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, that’s all we wanted to ask.”

Then the twins were gone, leaving a very confused Smokescreen behind them, although he was already plotting out bets on Bluestreak and Sideswipe hooking up by the end of the year. A mech had to keep things entertaining some how.

****

They had decided on Prowl’s office because one: the mech was always in there and two: he couldn’t ignore them on duty forever. However when either one of them had tried to book an appointment, the request had been rejected and referred to Jazz. Out of frustration they had booked every free slot Prowl had in a week, only for the mech to reject every single one the following day and refer them all to Jazz. This went on for several days, when Jazz finally had had enough and grabbed the twins while they were on their break in the rec’ room.

“Now, would somebody please tell me why the frag you’re trying to block out Prowl’s entire schedule?”

“We’re not!” Sideswipe retorted defensively.

“Yeah?” Jazz responded sardonically. “Care to tell me why I’m receiving several pings every hour to let me know I have an appointment referral from you two, sent from Prowl’s desk?”

Sunstreaker scowled. “He’s put the rejections on automatic?”

“Wouldn’t you if you were getting request after request with no explanation?” Jazz sighed and rubbed his temples. “If you wanted to speak with him, why not just walk into his office, or grab him in the rec’ room?”

“We can’t, he’s avoiding us!” Sideswipe snapped back in frustration.

Jazz’s visor brightened at that and he sat back in his chair. “Run that by me again.”

Sunstreaker relented and sighed. “Prowl is avoiding us. We don’t know why. We thought it was about the prank and we’ve tried to apologise and nothing and just the other day, Sides’ tried to speak to him in the rec’ room and he shoved him!”

“Prowl shoved Sideswipe?” Jazz frowned at that.

“Yeah and he ordered us to stay away from him, like we were contaminated with cosmic rust or something,” Sideswipe added with a scowl. “We have a right to know why we’re being ignored by one of the command staff. What if we had a real issue that needed dealing with you know, or there was a battle? How can we trust that Prowl has our backs if he can’t even look us in the optics or be in the same room with us?” Sideswipe sat back and folded his arms defiantly. “If it carries on, we’ll just have to go to Prime.”

Sunstreaker glanced at his brother with a half smirk at his well formed argument.

“Well let’s not get carried away, mechs,” Jazz attempted to placate the obviously agitated frontliners. “How about I try to speak with him? Find out what the deal is, okay?”

The twins communicated silently with each other before both nodding at Jazz. “Alright,” Sunstreaker replied.

“Good. Now stop harrassing him, alright. Whatever is on his processor isn’t going to be made better by you two stalking the mech. As you can see, with Prowl, forcing the issue just kinda makes things a whole lot worse for everybody, you dig?”

“We’ll stop. You’ll tell us what his problem with us is right?”

“You’ll be the first,” Jazz replied, smiling at Sideswipe. “Now, get. I gotta catch a Praxian who lives up to his name.”

****

The next day, Jazz sauntered into Prowl's office but stopped dead when he found it empty. Frowning, headed to Prowl's computer terminal and typed in his own passcode. "Right where are you hiding, Prowler."

"Please restate the question."

Jazz klicked at Teletraan's monotone. "Where is Prowl?"

"Prowl is not on board the Ark."

"So where the frag is he?"

"Please restate the question."

Resisting the urge to roll his optics, Jazz resigned himself to Teletraan's few limitations. "Where is Prowl?"

"First Lieutenant Prowl is on a mission."

Jazz's frown deepened at that. "Mission? Where?"

"Classified."

"Teletraan, this is First Lieutenant Jazz, head of Special Operations and all things secret, I have the highest clearance, where is he?"

"Classified."

"What the actual frag?"

"Please restate the que--"

Jazz muted the console before the urge to hurl it into the nearest wall became irresistible. "What are you playing at, Prowler?" He muttered as he began rifling through his fellow officer's desk. He picked up the datapad that Prowl had signed last and swore softly. "Prowl, you big ol' idiot," he declared before marching straight to Prime's office.

****

"Yes, I approved the mission," Prime stated non plussed as to Jazz's ire. "Prowl requested to carry it out personally. It has an 85% chance of success."

"This mission was meant for spec ops, Prime. My Intel tells me there's more going on than meets the optic. There are things I didn't include in the mission request," he shook the data pad vigorously.

"Why would you not... oh," Prime sat back in his chair with a resigned vent of air. "To make sure it was approved."

"Exactly, but now Prowl has gone off for what I think is a stupid fraggin' reason, with only half the data. Data which done without could easily turn this mission into a suicide mission!" Jazz explained urgently. "I need to go get him."

Prime frowned. "First of all, Prowl is special ops trained and he has taken Mirage with him, so I think a little more faith in his abilities are warranted. Secondly for what reason would Prowl take on any mission that wasn't for the betterment of the Autobot cause?"

Jazz sighed and flopped into the opposite chair. "The twins seem to think he is avoiding them. I don't know why and neither do they. They thought maybe their pranks had driven him off the deep end and honestly I just thought they were being paranoid, until Sideswipe told me he'd ordered them to stay away from him and now I find he's assigned himself off base for a mission that could see him not coming back," he rubbed his face plates wearily.

"It seems an extreme method of avoidance," Prime commented with bemusement.

"You know Prowl," Jazz pointed out. "Let me put a team together at least to go back him and Raj up should this turn out to be what I suspect it might."

Prime nodded. "I approve your request but Jazz, please let this be a lesson to in future include all relevant details of your request before submitting it to Prowl."

Jazz pulled a face yet nodded. "Noted, Sir."

"Please come to me with your plan before leaving. We'll have a briefing in the morning. Dismissed."

Jazz was out of his seat and into the corridor without another word, he was too busy plotting ways to get Prowl back alive in order to kill him himself.

****

"I'm telling you, Sunny, something is going on!"

"Just because Jazz didn't have time to speak to you doesn't mean anything, Sides'," Sunstreaker pointed out calmly.

Sideswipe huffed impatiently. "He didn't just not have time, he seemed really annoyed or worked up about something and the way he spoke to me," he scowled and swirled his energon. "Well I got the feeling he thought it was my fault."

"Sides', I know I say this a lot but, you're being ridiculous," Sunstreaker replied, not looking up from his bookfile.

"Would you just listen to me for once?" Sideswipe exclaimed frustratedly, pushing Sunstreaker's datapad down. "I was right about Prowl wasn't I?"

Sighing, Sunstreaker saved his place and set his datapad aside. "Alright. But I don't know what you expect me to do about it."

****

Jazz's frown hadn't vanished since finding out Prowl had gone off on an extremely dangerous mission, very likely not realising how dangerous it was and had taken his best agent with him. Mirage being with Prowl was only a small comfort, he wouldn't have been privvy to the original report and so would be as clueless as Prowl as to the risks they faced. He could at least hide them if need be though.  

He had only recharged a little since finding out the previous day and was now on his way to Prowl's office. He couldn't help the curl of guilt weaving its way through his spark. He'd submitted an inaccurate report knowingly. In his defence though, it wasn't like Prowl to swan off on a mission unannounced. He had whatever the twins had done to thank for that.

He punched in the code to Prowl's office and stopped dead at the sight of the cassetticon on Prowl's desk.

Ravage snarled and launched himself at Jazz, who promptly threw the cat into the nearest wall. //Red, lockdown the base and change all of Prowl's pass codes! // he hollered as he levelled a sonic blast at the cat before he could escape. Ravage slumped to the floor, stunned.

//What? Why? Where's Prowl?//

//Just do it, Red! We have a level one breach!//

//Oh Primus// Red Alert gasped over the comm.

Jazz had his rifle out and held it at Ravage until reinforcements arrived and he felt grim satisfaction when the base alert sounded seconds later, locking the base down. //Prime,// he started sharply, his frown deepening as the awful realisation sank in.

//Jazz, have you found the intruder?//

//With Ravage now, Sir... Optimus, my mission, it just became an extraction.//

****

 


	4. Reality

Prowl sat in his office confused. He was forgetting something but he couldn't think what. There was also this foggy unease curling about his spark. A feeling of impending doom, Jazz had pegged it as once. It was an apt description.

Staring at the datapad in front of him, he frowned at the screen. It was locked to the highest clearance. That was no problem to him. He started keying in his pass code and paused. Only Prime, Jazz or Red Alert could lock a report to the highest clearance and this wasn't from any of them. Prowl dropped the datapad with a gasp as though it had burned him and stood up quickly. He looked around his office getting the distinct impression he was being watched. "I know what this is!" He hollered suddenly. "Show yourself!"

"Prisoner: resisting."

Vortex glanced up at Soundwave who, despite his unreadable face, seemed displeased. "So placate him, I was almost through his firewalls. He can't fight me if you're distracting him. Stop trying to get information and just do what I asked. Distract," Vortex growled impatiently.

"Query: time?"

"His drugs will wear off in about two Earth days according to Hook and after that he'll be much harder to keep docile so shift your aft," Primus at times Soundwave was impossible. It was possible the mech was feeling put out by Megatron telling Vortex to help with the interrogations. The combaticon didn't much care. They were on borrowed time.

This wasn't just any Autobot prisoner, this was the SIC and head tactician of the entire Autobot army. He was an invaluable source of information, if only they could breach his near impenetrable firewalls. It was tough going and Soundwave using his probing method had only managed to gain a door code but Prowl had realised and fought back, viciously, both mentally and physically - despite being strapped to a berth. They needed more but if Prowl realised what was happening again, he would lock down tighter than Vector Sigma and there was a high probability the Praxian would wipe his own processor as he'd attempted to do before they'd sedated him.

"Distract. Him!" Vortex ordered, unfazed by the glower directed at him. There would be time for ego bruising later.

Prowl marched to the door of his office and stepped out, almost barrelling into Sideswipe. “Sideswipe!” he frowned, suspicious. “What are you doing lurking outside my office?” he demanded quickly.

Sideswipe gave him that lopsided grin of his and a shrug. “Just backing up Sunny,” he replied cheerfully. “Looks like you caught us though.”

“Caught you?” Prowl whirled around as his doorwings picked up movement behind him. Sunstreaker stepped out of his office with a smirk.

“We were going to prank you, get your attention, seeing as you’re avoiding us.”

“I’m not--”

“--come on, Prowl, it’s over, we know what you saw,” Sideswipe interrupted impatiently.

Prowl felt his spark lurch in his chest. “You do?”

“Yep,” Sunstreaker continued, standing beside his brother. “And we want to know what you’re going to do about it.”

“Do? It’s--”

“--abnormal and frowned upon, yeah we know that,” Sideswipe interrupted again, seemingly reading Prowl’s mind. “We’re not hurting anyone and just because we ‘face each other, doesn’t mean we’re not open to ‘facing others,” he smirked at Prowl, his optics roaming suggestively over his frame.

“Surely you’re not suggesting--?”

“--Why not?” Sunstreaker asked. “We’ve seen how you look at us, we figured out what had happened when we caught you in the rec’ room, your field gave you away but you thought I wasn’t paying attention before you shoved Sides’.”

Prowl shook his helm. “It is inappropriate and we shouldn’t be talking about this in the corridor.”

Prowl’s sentence was cut off with a surprised sound as Sunstreaker’s hand curled about his arm and guided him back into his office.

“More inappropriate than not ‘facing anyone?” Sideswipe asked innocently, his hand trailing over the edge of a doorwing.

“What are you implying?”

“I know all the gossip on this ship, Prowl, you haven’t berthed anyone in a long time,” Sideswipe pointed out slyly.

Flaring his doorwings defensively and to get them out of Sideswipe’s hands, Prowl glared at them. “My coding and processor are specialised. Interfacing isn’t a necessity.”

“Like slag,” Sunstreaker replied. “You’re a mech just like us and I can tell by the temperature increase of your frame that you’re trying to hide from us, that you have needs, just like us.”

A wave of embarrassment rushed through Prowl and he took a step back from the twins who were watching him predatorily, he turned to his desk, attempting desperately to regain composure, it wasn’t like him to become so flustered so easily. “I think you should leave.”

“Prowl,” Sideswipe’s voice was unusually soft, inviting and prompted Prowl’s doorwings to quiver subtly. “We’re offering. Doesn’t get much better than this and don’t worry about discretion, as you can imagine, we’re very private mechs for obvious reasons.”

“Be a part of our secret?” Sunstreaker whispered in Prowl’s audio, having moved closer.

Prowl’s mouth parted with a gasp at the sensation of his voice so close. He gripped the edge of his desk tightly as he felt Sunstreaker’s lips press against his audio and move down to his throat, kissing along cabling softly, causing Prowl to tilt his helm slightly to grant him access. He shouldn’t be succumbing like this, the twins, by the natural order of things, needed to be educated on their interfacing habits and encouraged to interface with others and not with each other. He needed to raise the issue with Ratchet and Optimus Prime so they could be properly checked and monitored and placed into separate quarters and oh that glossa felt so good. The moan escaped his vocaliser before he’d even realised it was there.

“It could be like this, whenever you wanted,” Sideswipe purred, now pressed up against Prowl’s other side, his glossa flicking out along the edge of his chevron.

Prowl shivered as their hands began exploring his frame, slowly, curiously, just as he’d fantasised, after seeing them in that cargo bay. His arousal had skyrocketed in the last few minutes and he was quickly losing his grasp on his control as their hands became firmer and their mouths became more demanding. Sideswipe was the first to turn his face and kiss him and Prowl positively melted into it. This was exactly as he’d imagined, except he’d never imagined it taking place in his office. He knew the twins were bold but that bold?

“Berth?” Sunstreaker muttered huskily into his audio, mouthing over the metal.

Prowl broke the intense kiss with a mewl. “There’s no berth here,” he murmured, frowning as he realised he was in his quarters. “How, how are we here?”

“We brought you remember?” Sideswipe smirked. “So carried away already, Prowl?”

“No,” Prowl’s frown deepened and he pulled free of the twins. “We weren’t here, we were in my office. I’ve only ever imagined you here…” he trailed off, dread rising rapidly through his systems as he backed away from the approaching twins. “Primus, this isn’t real,” he whispered.”

“Of course it is, Prowl,” Sideswipe answered, his grin eerily fixed on his face. “We’re right here, now come back and let us have a bit of fun with you,” he growled and lunged for the black and white.

Prowl’s reflexes hadn’t dulled in his distracted state, thankfully and he ducked out of the way and ran for the door.

“Get back here!” Sunstreaker snarled, tackling Prowl to the floor. “Why are you being so stubborn!?”

Prowl fought the strong hands that tried to pin him down as Sunstreaker grabbed at him on the floor and straddled his struggling frame. “This isn’t real! You’re not real, they wouldn’t do this!”

“You have no idea what we’d do, we’re just a fantasy to you,” Sideswipe drawled, his voice carrying a dangerous edge to it.

“Exactly. My fantasy. My rules,” Prowl hissed, managing to get a hand free and grab his acid pellet rifle from subspace. He jammed it into Sunstreaker’s middle and fired without hesitation.

The apparition of Sideswipe froze as Sunstreaker cried out in pain and surprise and clutched at the hole in his middle.

“Soundwave!” Prowl growled out as he aimed for Sunstreaker’s face and squeezed the trigger. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

Soundwave gasped sharply and staggered back, startling Vortex.

“What the frag?”

Soundwave had no time to respond as Prowl inexplicably onlined on the berth and managed to get one hand free. He retrieved his weapon from his subspace and shot at Vortex who only just managed to dive out of the way, tearing his interface data cable from its socket. The acid pellet clipped a rotor, melting the thin metal.

Vortex screamed in pain and anger - he was going to crush the spark chamber of the incompetents who had neglected to search their prisoner thoroughly - and lunged for the Praxian. His larger size and strength soon had the half restrained Prowl overpowered. Tearing the black and white’s gun from his hands, he slammed the butt of the rifle into Prowl’s helm repeatedly until the mech stopped struggling with a grunt and fell limp on the berth. “Fraag!” he hollered in frustration, sending the rifle skittering across the floor with a spatter of Prowl’s energon.

It came to a stop at Soundwave’s feet. The communications mech ignored it and his overly bright visor simply glared at the now prone Autobot. “Statement: failure.”

“You don’t fraggin’ say!” Vortex snarled back at him as he headed for the door to find Hook - two Earth days, his aft!

“Suggestion: traditional interrogation.”

Vortex paused at the door and glanced back at Soundwave with a sneer. “It will be my pleasure.”

****

The twins were subdued as they entered the briefing room. Things on base had been tense for the last couple of days, the command staff were acting strange and had been snapping at mechs with little provocation. There had been murmurings on base about one of Jazz's team being in trouble but nobody in ops was talking. Prowl had been conspicuously absent which had the twins concerned that something big was happening. A Decepticon attack perhaps or an ops mission gone wrong.

The command staff all looked up as the twins entered the room. Optimus Prime was the first to speak. "Thank you for coming, please have a seat."

The twins noticed that two seats were empty. One was Jazz's and he was stood at the display screen ready to speak. The other was Prowl's seat. Sideswipe glanced at his brother with a confused and worried frown. Sunstreaker simply gave him a subtle shrug and sat down in Prowl's chair, his spark spinning faster with apprehension.

"As you may already be aware, as of yesterday, Prowl and Mirage have been declared MIA. The most probable scenario is that they have been captured by the Decepticons," Prime explained to everyone in the room, somberly.

Sunstreaker tensed in his seat at the news. What the frag was Prowl doing on an ops mission anyway? He hoped it had nothing to do with Prowl avoiding them. Hell of a way to go to extremes if it was. He glanced at his brother subtly as he felt Sideswipe's hand curling about his own under the table. He could feel over their twin bond that they shared the same concern.

"There have been no attempt at negotiations and no ransom demanded," Prime continued. "You have all been called here because we are going to undertake a rescue and you have been selected to be a part of the extraction team. Jazz will explain the details," Prime turned to face Jazz and the monitor and gave his third a nod to begin.

Jazz started talking about the potential locations based on the original mission report and triangulating Prowl's last known whereabouts within that range. He then moved onto the details of how they were going to proceed and who was going to do what.

Sidwswipe listened and tried to take it all in.  He and his brother weren't ops mechs though and although he wanted to help, he couldn't understand why they had been chosen.

"So that's the plan. We leave at sundown," Jazz finished. "I needn't remind any of you how critical it is we retrieve both Prowl and Mirage. If retrieval isn't possible, deactivation is to be guaranteed."

"Wait what?" Sunstreaker balked at that last statement. "You mean deactivate them?"

Jazz met his gaze steadily. "If needs be."

"You can't be serious! Prowl is SIC and Mirage is one of your most valuable agents! Not to mention they're both your friend!" Ratchet cut in sharply.

"Exactly," Jazz replied gravely. "Which is why we can't risk them being compromised. They've both had ops training, they know the drill and I'll honestly be surprised if Prowl hasn't enacted protocol already. They wouldn't want to be left online at the hands of the 'cons, as their friend, I know that much."

"This is barbaric!" Ratchet declared hotly. "Prime you can't allow this."

Optimus met his medic's angry gaze. "Jazz is right. The knowledge they have is too valuable to fall into enemy hands. The tactical information alone that Prowl retains in his processor, is enough information to sway this war in the Decepticons' favour. We would be done for," he sighed softly. "If we can rescue them, that is obviously a preference but we suspect that Prowl has already been compromised."

"No way!" Sideswipe blurted out. "No 'con can get past Prowl's firewalls," he trailed off as everybody stared at him.  "Can they?"

"We have reason to believe Soundwave already has," Red Alert replied quietly.

"We have Ravage in lockup," Jazz clarified sadly. "I found him in Prowl's office and he'd used Prowl's code to get in."

Sideswipe sank back in his chair, deflated.

Prime nodded and vented air softly. "If that will be all? Primus be with us all."

The mechs began to file from the room, except the twins who caught Jazz as he was leaving.

"We don't get why we were called into this," Sideswipe started to say, before Jazz stopped him.

"Mirage was my scout. Can't be seen, Bee is fast but I need faster. You're the fastest on base Sides'."

"And me? Where do I fit in?" Sunstreaker asked.

Jazz threw him a wry grin. "You're my muscle. Also I can't carry them both out myself, ya dig?"

The twins nodded, a small ray of hope at Jazz's words that they would attempt a rescue before the worst case scenario.

"Groovy, now go prepare, get some rest, you're going to need it," Jazz ordered.

****

 


	5. Mission

Sunstreaker tried not to let his apprehension creep over their sibling bond. Sideswipe could easily take care of himself and could outdrive most mechs of either faction,  it was just the fact that he was scouting on ahead and he had no backup. Not to mention that Prowl and Mirage had already gotten themselves into trouble out here.

"Ok, Sideswipe has sent back the signal. Let's go," Jazz commanded. "Keep your optics sharp."

They transformed and branched out from their respective locations.

They drove for a while with no sign of anything until they saw Sideswipe waving at them urgently in the distance.

Jazz was suspicious.  "Approach carefully, could be a trap."

Sunstreaker could feel his brother over their bond and he didn't feel in trouble but there was a definite urgency and worry emanating from him. He did briefly wonder why he wasn't using his comm. but knew that there had to be a good reason. He gently probed the bond carefully and received an image in return. "Sir, it's Mirage!" He exclaimed out loud, transforming as they approached.

Jazz followed suit.  "How do you know? Wait, I get it," he held up his hand. "Scratch that, are they in trouble?"

"Can't tell was just an image," Sunstreaker broke into a sprint as his brother pulsed urgency over their connection.

"Sunny!" Jazz started but the golden mech was too fast. "Fraggit!" He gave chase, drawing his weapon, just in case.

"What took you so long?" Sideswipe quipped with a half smirk.

"What took us... why the frag aren't you using your comms?" Sunstreaker snapped out with irritation.

"Mirage said not to, come on, I got him into a cave out of the way," Sideswipe led the way when Jazz had joined them and turned on his headlights when he stepped into the cave. "'Raj, I brought visitors," he called out, crouching down beside the spy.

The noble tried to sit up but Jazz was by his side in an instant gently prompting him to lie back down. "'Raj, what happened?" He asked with deep concern.

Sunstreaker took in the battered sight of the noble and frowned. 'Ambush?' He asked his brother over their bond.

'Looks like,  he wasn't very coherent when I found him. He's suffered massive energon loss, I gave him my rations, seems to have helped a bit but he needs a medic.'

Sunstreaker grunted his agreement. Mirage was a mess. It looked like he'd put up one hell of a fight.

Jazz leaned in closer as Mirage tried to speak to him, only for the spy to shake his helm and open a port. Frowning, Jazz took his hand and nodded before unfurling a data cable and connecting it to the exposed port.

The spy was too weak to describe what had happened but he was more than able to share it. Jazz became a passive observer as he watched what both mechs had thought was a routine mission turn ugly, fast. As Jazz had suspected there had been far more 'cons than he'd put in his report and the base there was already well established.

Prowl and Mirage had been attacked by the Constructicons first and when they had tried to double back, the seekers had cut them off. They'd initially managed to grab Mirage, while Prowl fought off Soundwave. However when the seekers had threatened to kill Mirage on the spot, Prowl had surrendered himself as the more valuable hostage. While the seekers had been deliberating (arguing) Mirage had received the order from Prowl to run. He had resisted but the Praxian had pointed out he had a higher chance of avoiding recapture and allowed for further distraction by shooting at the seekers with his secondary weapon.

Mirage had reluctantly followed orders and had activated his cloak. Unfortunately that meant the 'cons had fired wildly in the direction he'd fled and had managed to land quite a few lucky shots. Shots that had forced Mirage to take cover.

After that,  he'd attempted to crawl back to base, only to lose too much energon and had remained where he'd fallen, his cloak shimmering as he lost power, making him partially visible. This was where Sideswipe had found him. He'd been lying in the dirt for nearly three days and the 'cons were long gone. Unfortunately so was Prowl.

Jazz pulled back with a deep down and disconnected himself from Mirage. He patted the noble's shoulder gently in reassurance and got to his feet. "Sides' take these," he handed out his rations to the red mech. "I'm trusting you to get Mirage back to a safe distance where Skyfire can be called in. I'll let Bumblebee know to keep optics open for you.

"And what are you doing?" Sideswipe asked.

"Me and Sunny, we're sticking to the plan, we're going to find Prowl and bring his aft back," Jazz glanced back at Mirage and vented softly. "I'd make Sunny give you his rations too but we might need them," he didn't elaborate on the obvious point. "He can't transform so you're going to have to walk. Go at dawn and dusk, the lighting gets all screwy at those times on this planet."

Sideswipe nodded. "Got it. That probably means we should make a move now," he pointed out, peering out of the cave.

"We all should," Jazz agreed.

Jazz and Sunstreaker saw Sideswipe and Mirage off first. The front liner was supporting most of the noble's weight but Mirage was far past being too proud to accept the help.

Sunstreaker sent a pulse of love and a warning to keep his aft safe, over the bond to his brother, as he and Jazz set off in the opposite direction.

****

Vortex was becoming increasingly frustrated with the Autobot. Despite his normally effective interrogation methods, he had yielded no data or information that was of any use. Soundwave had even tried probing the mech's mind during his interrogations to see if there was any inadvertent slip of information.

He sighed as the Autobot arched up on the berth with a scream before falling unconscious. His body had shut down to protect him from the pain. Discarding the warped plating he'd slowly peeled from the Autobot's frame, Vortex cursed. This was the second time that the Praxian had passed out. He was beginning to take it personally.

Hook checked the Autobot's vitals and pulled a face. "You need to let his self repair work for a bit or you're not going to have much of a sane Autobot to interrogate," he pointed out matter of factly.

"Fine," Vortex huffed and wiped his hands clean of energon. "Take him back to his cell."

****

Prowl onlined in a dark cell, on a low, hard berth. His hands were bound by stasis cuffs, that were set high enough to immobilise him on said berth. Errors flashed pointlessly across his HUD, he knew the damage. His entire body hurt in some way or another and his self repair was working sluggishly due to lack of energon but Prowl was more annoyed by his predicament than anything else. He should’ve known that Jazz had filed a grossly inaccurate report. He made a mental note to have a strong word with the mech later, though the ops mech was more than likely beating himself up for his misrepresentation.

Prowl thought about Mirage, he hoped the spy had managed to escape. At least then the Autobots would be well informed about this Decepticon base. The SIC was under no delusions that a rescue mission wouldn’t be mounted. Jazz would be on his way, with or without permission, mostly in an effort to atone for the situation being partly his fault, but also because Jazz wasn’t a mech who left others behind. It was a rare trait in a special ops commander but it was one that gave Prowl some small comfort. Even if he did have to face the torment of Vortex again.

Unfortunately being stuck in the tiny cell and with no way to orchestrate an escape attempt, Prowl was left at the mercy of his own relentless processor and he began to dwell on the real reason he’d ended up in this mess. It was the most illogical, confounding reason and it made his processor ache just thinking about it. He’d acted in a way that could only be described as irrational. He’d wanted to avoid the twins so much and the thoughts of their steamy tryst in the cargo bay, that he’d wilfully, if unwittingly walked straight into a Decepticon trap. It was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever done and it was only now; trapped in a Decepticon stronghold with the very real threat of torture and worse looming over him, that he realised why he’d acted so rashly. He desired them. Desired them both on a much deeper level than the physical. His coding seemed to yearn for their barely altered base coding.

In his brief interfacing with others, Prowl had been faced with erratic, disorganised, useless coding data that he'd had to purge. Twin coding he knew was near identical and the fact they didn't like to berth many mechs outside of each other - Sunstreaker likely never had, given his extreme personality - meant their coding would be orderly, neat and open to his input. On a very primal, base level it was what all Cybertronians wanted; to influence, share part of themselves and Prowl was no different.

Regardless of them defying societal conformity and going against laws designed to protect their species and individuals from coding corruption, Prowl wanted what they had, more than that, he wanted to be part of what they had. He hadn’t felt such a raw, base desire in such a long time that it had thrown him for a loop and he’d tried to push the uncontrollable  feeling as far away as possible.

Prowl sighed. In attempting to maintain control by avoiding the twins and subsequently the feelings they’d unknowingly evoked in him, he’d put himself in a situation that was completely out of his control. He was certainly not blind to the irony of his situation and that only served to irk him even more.

****

Sunstreaker followed close behind Jazz as they neared the Decepticon base. It was well hidden and if it wasn’t for the information Jazz had obtained from Mirage, they would very likely still be looking for it. “So do you have a plan for how we’re getting in there?” The golden mech hissed quietly as they both crouched down behind a rocky verge, out of sight.

Jazz nodded slowly, thoughtfully for a moment, then grinned at Sunstreaker. “Yeah, we run through the front door.”

Intakes stalling at his words, Sunstreaker glared at Jazz. “Not really a joking moment,” he replied.

Shrugging, Jazz shifted and started getting to his feet. “Who’s joking?”

“What the frag!” Sunstreaker darted after the, obviously crazy, black and white and tugged him back. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“Sunny, there’s a lot you need to learn about ops. It isn’t all subterfuge and shadows, sometimes the good old element of surprise is enough to work with,” Jazz grabbed the mech’s hand tightly, peeling it from his arm. “Now run!” he ordered as he got up and began sprinting towards the base.

Snarling in frustration, Sunstreaker raced after the smaller mech, who transformed and sped on ahead, aiming directly for the unsuspecting guards on the door. The frontliner had no choice but to follow suit and hope to Primus that they weren’t spotted and shot before even reaching the base. Thankfully they did have speed and surprise to their advantage, and with the thick darkness of the desert night, they both managed to reach at the base unscathed, though their engines had drawn the guards’ attentions.

Jazz launched himself at the nearest guard, transforming mid-air and tackled the stunned mech to the ground.

Distracted by the scuffle, the second guard didn't notice the golden blur. He grunted as the hard, strong weight slammed into him and he only had chance to scrabble and claw at Sunstreaker's plating before blinding pain filled his processor and he knew no more.

Jazz had managed to get himself pinned briefly beneath the large 'con.

Sunstreaker rushed to his aid only for the guard to stiffen and fall limp over Jazz, who was half the mech's size.

"Little help?" Jazz grunted, trying to shove the dead weight from his frame.

Obliging, Sunstreaker hoisted the offline mech from Jazz and watched him roll onto his back, displaying a large blade embedded in his chest plate.

Clapping Sunstreaker's shoulder as he got to his feet, Jazz urged him on. "Let's go, we're on borrowed time."

Sunstreaker nodded and followed him into the base, weapon raised.

"We're going to split up, cover more ground. If you find nothing in a demi-cycle, get yourself out of the base and to a safe distance."

"How do I contact you?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Private frequency, I've sent you the link. Don't use details just code. Initials or key descriptors at most. Just contact me if you find Prowl or you're in trouble and I'll do the same," Jazz instructed, before both mechs parted ways.

****

Agony was not something Prowl had anticipated getting used to. His advanced processor kept feeding him statistics on every injury Vortex inflicted on him and used this data to remain focused and in control of his emotions, despite his battle computer being offline, courtesy of Hook.

It wasn't a fool proof method by any means and when the pain got too much, Prowl would scream. Usually by that point in the interrogation, Vortex was beyond frustrated with the lack of usable information. In this instance however, Vortex appeared calm and collected. That concerned Prowl more than the mech's rage.

"It appears once again that you are unwilling to cooperate," Vortex stated, placing his tools to one side. "Shame, you would undoubtedly make an excellent 'con, with that unemotional processor of yours. Would only need a little bit of tweaking to make you subservient," the 'copter leered darkly. "Megatron has made his decision though," he continued with mild disappointment. "Just when I was starting to have fun too," looking to Hook, he nodded.  

Prowl stiffened as the restraints holding him to the berth were released and stasis cuffs were placed over his wrists. Hook tugged him up to sitting, he was no longer able to stand thanks to Vortex's work.

He glared defiantly at Vortex who was stood some way back with a demented grin on his face.

"I'm going to shoot you now, using your own gun. The acid will work slowly enough through your spark chamber to give Hook time to remove and dissect your processor, so at the very least, you won't be a complete waste of parts," Vortex explained casually, smiling as he pointed Prowl's weapon at his chest.

Very real fear surged through Prowl. In removing his processor while he was online there was still a chance they could obtain Autobot data. He also didn't want to deactivate. At least not like this. Not here. Despite this he faced the gun bravely and waited for the shot.

An alarm sounded suddenly through the base, just as Vortex pulled the trigger. Distracted the 'con turned and his shot went wide, clipping Prowl's shoulder.

Prowl hissed as the acid ate through his armour plating and into the protoform beneath, rendering the arm useless.

"What the frag!?"

"We have an intruder. The guards have been deactivated!" Hook shouted to be heard over the blaring siren.

"Pit's sake!" Vortex growled. "Keep him here," he demanded as he marched to the door.

"Where are you going?" Hook asked with a frown.

Vortex grinned darkly at Prowl. "To bring us a little incentive."

****

Sunstreaker encountered little resistance as he made his way through the base. Those that did put up a fight, didn’t do so for long. When the siren blared out, he froze, there were no ‘cons in his area and he’d silenced any that had crossed his path. “Jazz…” he muttered to himself. Unused to being on a mission like this, he knew that he should follow Jazz’s orders. Sunstreaker, however, had another plan in mind. There was no way he was leaving without at least knowing he’d tried his best to either rescue Prowl or find and retrieve Jazz before he caused anymore trouble.

He ducked into a shadowy doorway as Vortex appeared, dragging a sorry looking Jazz behind him. Sunstreaker cursed silently at the sight of the black and white. He looked badly beaten and barely conscious, hardly able to keep himself on his own two feet as Vortex shoved him roughly into a room.

Resting his helm against the wall, Sunstreaker swore again. He had no idea what lay beyond that door. There was likely a dozen armed ‘cons, all with jumpy trigger fingers. “Frag!” The golden mech punched the wall in frustration. He knew there was no turning back now. He had fairly good chances of taking at least half of them down before they could stop him. Those were odds Sunstreaker would fight for. They weren’t losing both their commanders to this pit of a base. Not while he could do something about it.

Resolute in his decision, Sunstreaker pushed off the wall and marched to the door. Shooting the panel, he flattened himself to the wall as it opened before darting inside, weapon raised, ready to shoot at the first thing that moved.

****

 

 


	6. Touch and Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day, dear readers :3

Prowl’s intakes hitched as he watched Jazz being dragged in and thrown to the floor. He looked a mess. That surprised him, Jazz could certainly handle himself in a fight and rarely allowed himself to get captured when on missions. “Jazz!”

“Hey, Prowler,” Jazz wheezed, grinning up at him from the floor. “So here’s where you’ve been hiding, oooff!” Jazz grunted as Vortex kicked him hard in the mid-section and roughly pulled him up so he was on his knees.

Glaring at Prowl, Vortex held Prowl’s own weapon to Jazz’s helm and smirked darkly. “Time to talk, Autobot.”

Prowl stared in horror at the scene and met Jazz’s gaze. He frowned, distraught when Jazz shook his helm.

“Don’t tell him slag, Prowl, trust me.”

“Jazz… I…”

“Jus’ don’t!”

“Shut it!” Vortex growled, shoving Jazz’s helm with the muzzle of the rifle. “So what’s it to be, hm? His energon will be on your hands unless you tell me everything I want to know.”

Prowl’s optics dimmed and he tore his gaze from Jazz. “You’ll kill us anyway,” he muttered. “Do your worst.”

Jazz nodded and smirked. “That’s my Prowl.”

Right at that moment, the door exploded into the room, sending Vortex to the floor with a flurry of expletives.

Hook ducked behind the berth Prowl was sat on and the black and white could only stare as Sunstreaker rolled into the room, a gun in each hand.

“Aw, Sunny,” Jazz whined from the floor where he’d thrown himself. “You ruined my big plans. I had it all under control, mech.”

Huffing air through his intakes, Sunstreaker straightened. “Hmpf, looked like it.”

“It was all part of the plan,” Jazz frowned. “I thought I told you to leave.”

Sunstreaker shrugged nonchalantly as his gaze roamed over Prowl’s abused frame. “Thought you knew I had a problem with authority?”

Their banter was soon interrupted by a gutteral snarl and the door slamming into the wall as Vortex shoved it off of him. He quickly launched himself at Sunstreaker, who was prepared for the assault. They went down onto the deck heavily, both mechs landing hard and fast punches.

Jazz grabbed the abandoned weapons as more ‘cons turned up, drawn by the sound of the small explosion. A fire fight broke out and Prowl, despite his injuries, hurled himself back off the berth, landing on a startled Hook. The ‘con medic briefly fought before Prowl managed to clutch one of Vortex’s tools and rammed it into his neck, slicing through one of Hook’s main energon lines, forcing the mech to retreat.

Prowl could only lie on the floor as the fighting continued. He had no way of knowing how his allies were faring and the action of throwing himself off the berth had ruptured several already damaged parts of his body. He could feel energon slowly leaking out beneath him, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Sunstreaker had had enough of this slag. Managing to grab a rotor blade, he twisted his hand sharply, wrenching and contorting the thin metal in his grasp.

Vortex howled and clawed at his back, his cries of pain turning into screams as the golden mech ripped the rotor from his back, before drop kicking him into the berth.

Watching the mech slam painfully into the solid berth before crumpling to the floor, Sunstreaker realised that Prowl had disappeared. Rushing to the berth, he peered over it and spotting Prowl, he vaulted over the metal slab, crouching down beside the downed black and white. “What can I do?”

Prowl shook his helm, “Too many injuries, just go… I’ll only be a liability.”

“Like slag I’m leaving without you,” Sunstreaker growled. He glanced up as the gun fire stopped suddenly and Jazz appeared at his side.

“It’s fine, I don’t need any help,” Jazz drawled, reloading the weapon.

“What? Not part of the plan?” Sunstreaker quipped back with a half smirk. “Prowl’s hurt bad, I don’t have the training…”

Jazz was at Prowl’s side in an instant, pulling out his emergency field kit. “Prowler this is going to hurt. I need you to open your internals for me, ‘kay?”

Sunstreaker felt immediately uncomfortable and grabbed Jazz’s weapon, taking point at the door in case any more ‘cons showed up.

Jazz went to work cauterizing Prowl’s internal injuries as best he could. It wasn’t perfect but it would stop him bleeding out on the trip home. “Sunny, I can’t lift him, Vortex did a number on me when I was letting him capture me.”

Raising an optic ridge at the smaller black and white, Sunstreaker grunted. “You let him capture you.”

“You didn’t think it was that easy to catch me did ya?” Jazz grinned. “All part of the plan, mech.”

He should’ve known really. Heading over, he handed his weapon back to Jazz. “We’ll have to run for it, can’t carry him and transform,” he pointed out.

“Let’s get going then.”

Sunstreaker nodded and carefully scooped Prowl up in his arms, grimacing when Prowl winced and hissed in pain at the movement, a hand reaching up to clutch at his plating. “I got you, Prowl,” he murmured quietly. He didn’t like seeing the mech so messed up like this and wished he’d taken Vortex’s spark chamber out of his chest for what he’d done to Prowl. “We gotta run, I’ll hold tight, can’t promise it won’t hurt though.”

Prowl shook his helm and managed to curl his arm about the back of Sunstreaker’s neck. “Go,” he urged, glancing at Jazz who nodded at his command.

“Sunny run first, I got your aft,” Jazz ordered.

The golden mech didn’t need telling twice. He sprinted from the room, holding Prowl tightly. He couldn’t think about whether he was causing further damage and pain to the mech in his arms, at least not until they were out of danger. He heard Jazz firing a few shots as their escape took a few ‘cons by surprise. They were going out the same way they came in, through the front door. It felt like forever before Sunstreaker could finally see the exit and he picked up his pace. He heard Jazz yelp behind him and he spun around to find the mech on the floor. “Get up!”

“Go on! I’ll catch up!” Jazz hollered, waving him on.

“No, we can’t…” Prowl hissed.

“No choice,” Sunstreaker declared resolutely. “I’ll come back for him,” he broke into a run and pelted down the corridor, shutting out the sounds of the fight behind him. He silently hoped there was a Jazz left to come back for.

They broke out into the desert and Sunstreaker picked up his speed when without warning the base behind him exploded into a huge fire ball. He was thrown forward, his feet leaving the desert floor as he sailed through the air. As the ground raced towards him, he clutched Prowl - amazed that he’d managed to keep a hold of him - and twisted his body. The landing hurt like slag and he snarled as he bounced upon initial impact. The force of the blow sent him skating on his back along the rough desert floor and he cried out in pain as his back scraped along the stony, hard ground.

Audio ringing, processor dazed; it took Sunstreaker a few moments to come to after they’d stopped moving. The first thing he noticed was Prowl was no longer in his arms. Sitting up sharply, he clutched his helm as the world spun around him. Prowl was lying just beside him, his optics dim, unfocused and barely online. Looking back to the base, Sunstreaker’s spark sank, nobody could have survived that. Pushing to his feet he walked a few paces closer and gazed at the raging inferno. “I’m sorry, Jazz,” he murmured remorsefully.

“For what?”

Sunstreaker looked around with a frown. “Who’s there?”

“Who’d you think?” came the disembodied voice.

The golden mech started when Jazz materialised, walking towards him with a pronounced limp. “I thought you’d…”

“Nah… was all part of the plan,” Jazz replied, giving Sunstreaker a tired grin.

“Augh, I should shoot you!” Sunstreaker muttered with irritation, although he was glad to see Jazz alive. “How did you do that anyway?”

“‘Raj’s cloak, he gave me the mod before we left,” Jazz knelt down beside Prowl. “He’s fading,” he looked up at Sunstreaker. “You still good to carry him, you landed pretty heavily.”

Sunstreaker shrugged and stepped forward. “I’m fine, let’s get him home.”

Jazz nodded and quickly fed Prowl an energon ration, making sure he swallowed it all. He gave Sunstreaker a sidelong glance as the golden mech picked up the limp, unprotesting black and white and watched as he made sure Prowl was comfortable, with his helm pillowed on Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “I saw what you did,” he commented casually as they set off, walking side by side.

“What?”

“When the base exploded. You made sure he’d land on you.”

“So? What of it?” Sunstreaker replied tersely.

Jazz smirked and looked ahead of them. “Clearly the rumours about you aren’t all that.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

Jazz’s smirk spread into a smile. “Yeah, sure, can’t have everyone finding out you actually give a frag about ‘bots now, can we? Prowl in particular,” he teased lightly, sensing the ripple in Sunstreaker’s energy field, confirming his suspicions.

****

It was a day before they had walked a safe distance out of enemy territory and could call for help.

Knowing Skyfire was enroute, Jazz and Sunstreaker managed to find shelter to wait in. Prowl had long since succumbed to his injuries and had been unconscious for the majority of their trip.

"Should we try to wake him, he probably needs energon," Sunstreaker asked, glancing down at his frame now smeared with congealed and fresh energon.

Jazz nodded and moved over to Prowl, gently he tried to rouse him, frowning when Prowl didn’t stir. “Something’s not right, I might have to go in and forcibly wake him,” he stated, his tone grim.

Sunstreaker knelt down beside Prowl, his gaze on Jazz. “What do you need me to do?”

“Hold him, he might come out of it in shock, try to keep him calm, when he wakes.”

Sunstreaker felt out of his depth. He was not a mech of comfort, unless it came to his brother. Prowl though was a different story entirely. He barely even knew the mech. He had a lot of respect for the tactician but outside of pranking the mech - apart from recently - he hadn’t really spared him a thought.

“Sunny, mech snap out of it,” Jazz ordered, when Sunstreaker didn’t move. “I’m going in now.”

The golden mech scowled and focused his attention on Prowl as Jazz hacked into his systems. Nothing happened for what felt like an age and then suddenly Prowl’s optics flashed bright and he sucked in air through his vents as he onlined with a startled half whimper, half sob. “Whoa, Prowl, easy, I got you,” Sunstreaker reacted immediately as Prowl practically threw himself into the golden mech’s arms as he sat up sharply, jarring his heavily damaged frame.

“Sun… Sunstreaker…?” Prowl whispered with a frown, before a keen escaped his lips.

Sunstreaker shifted quickly as Prowl began to sink back down to the floor. With Prowl’s helm cradled in his arms, he frowned in concern at the mech. “What is it?”

“Hurts…” Prowl gasped, unable to keep still.

Jazz disconnected and met Prowl’s pained optics. “Prowler,” he started softly, taking hold of his friend’s hand. “You’re a mess.”

“He says he hurts,” Sunstreaker pointed out.

“Yeah, Vortex did a number on him, I detected multiple protoform injuries when I was inside his systems. His firewalls are also shot so he’s going to be suffering one pit of a processor ache now. He’s losing too much energon, I can’t shunt the flow,” Jazz explained quietly, squeezing Prowl’s hand as the mech let out a soft whimper.

“Pass me the fuel,” Sunstreaker held out his hand, his tone level, no nonsense. He and his brother had had to survive energon starvation and worse. He wasn’t going to let Prowl fade from his injuries, not when he could help.

Jazz canted his helm at the warrior as the mech, didn’t ingest the ration and instead opened a port on his arm. “What are you doing, Sunny?”

“The way I figure, Skyfire will be here before either of us go into stasis. Two mechs with less than half reserves is better than one mech with none,” he pointed out stubbornly.

Jazz watched in stunned silence as Sunstreaker took Prowl’s arm and opened damaged plating to reveal access to an energon line. “You can’t be serious, his injuries could drain you both faster than you can maintain it.”

“Got to try,” Sunstreaker gave him a one shoulder shrug and unfurled a secondary energon line from his own body and slotted it into an emergency port in Prowl’s arm. Redirecting his bodily energon flow and downing the rations, his optics dimmed and he felt a rush of dizziness as his high maintenance body adapted to the decreased flow.

Impressed as Prowl began to settle and his optics grew brighter, Jazz hummed in appreciation of the quick action. “Where’d you learn that?”

Sunstreaker gave the ops mech a half smirk. “I’m full of surprises.”

Jazz huffed a quiet laugh and kept an optic on Prowl’s vitals as the mech stabilised, well below optimum and still in the danger zone but not in immediate danger of having his spark gutter on him. “And then some.”


	7. Secrets and lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delay in posting had laptop die and university work to do. Hope it's worth the wait.

Prowl was in and out of consciousness during their journey back to the Ark. He had mostly focused on the sound of Jazz’s and Sunstreaker’s voices to keep himself anchored. He hadn’t had the energy to speak and part of him still worried that this was all an elaborate hack perpetrated by Soundwave. 

 

Now in the medical bay, staring up at the garish orange ceiling, Prowl was left alone with his thoughts as his body began the long journey to recovery. Ratchet had done commendable work as usual but Prowl knew there would be scars. Vortex had left his mark, even if the physical signs of it had been removed. Now all that Prowl could think about was how much of a glitch he was for getting himself into that situation in the first place. He hadn’t said much since regaining consciousness and Ratchet hadn’t pushed him but he couldn’t stop thinking about Sunstreaker and how the mech had literally given his life energon to save his spark. Nobody had ever done anything like that for him. Just the thought of it made his spark twist and flip flop in his chest.  

 

Prowl wasn’t expecting many visitors. He wasn’t a hated mech but he knew that he would never win any popularity contests among the Ark’s crew. Jazz had stopped by briefly as had Bluestreak. Prowl had silently hoped Sunstreaker would have visited for reasons he did not want to admit to himself. However, he hadn’t seen sight nor sound of the frontliner, since they’d returned to the Ark. 

 

Sighing as his processor went round in circles, Prowl gave in to the need to recharge. His optics dimmed before going completely dark and he finally relaxed against the berth. 

 

****

 

"So... what we doing here again?" Sideswipe asked for the fourth time. 

 

Sunstreaker spared his twin a weary glance. "I told you; waiting."

 

"You haven't told me for what," Sideswipe pointed out with mild irritation. "I know Ratchet said you were clear to leave."

 

"For that," Sunstreaker pushed off his berth carefully and quietly padded into the private room at the back. The door had been left ajar, leaving enough of a gap for Sunstreaker to see Prowl. 

 

Sideswipe followed in bemusement, not entirely sure what he was up to. "He's in recharge," he whispered as they stepped inside the room.

 

"Kinda the point Sides'," Sunstreaker murmured back as he stopped beside Prowl's berth. "Not really sure what to say to him, I just wanted to make sure he was alright you know. Kinda feel responsible."

 

Sideswipe nodded and frowned, for his brother to display this level of concern for anybody that wasn't him, was a big deal. After finding out about Prowl's attraction to them and subsequent avoidance; he too felt guilty and had been asking himself if their questioning of Prowl had driven the mech off base and into Decepticon hands. He honestly didn't think they'd been that pushy though, Prowl's behaviour hadn't really made sense. 

 

Jazz had assured them both it wasn't their fault. Every mech made mistakes, even Prowl. Jazz had also pointed out that if anyone should feel guilty it was him for putting inaccurate details in a mission request. It had almost cost them two good mechs. It didn't really help Sideswipe's guilt though. 

 

"He looks peaceful," Sunstreaker commented softly.

 

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed. "Do you think he'll keep avoiding us?" He glanced at his brother. "I still want to ask him about what Smokes' said you know about his door wings and what that movement meant."

 

Sunstreaker nodded. "I don't know, he was pretty out of it during the rescue. Is there any point in asking?"

 

"You don't know until you ask..." 

 

Both twins looked down sharply with bright optics and watched as Prowl's pale blue optics lit dimly. Sunstreaker scowled. "Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you."

 

Activating the berth into a semi sitting position, Prowl shook his helm. "No apologies necessary," he replied quietly. "I am glad for the company."

 

Sideswipe frowned at how hoarse Prowl's normally smooth, even tenor sounded and he lightly fingered the edge of the berth. "Even our company?"

 

Prowl’s optics dimmed and he looked down at his hands clasped loosely in his lap. “Even yours,” he murmured softly in reply. 

 

Sunstreaker huffed a sigh and glanced between them. He wasn’t a mech for platitudes or sentiment and decided to cut to the chase. “Did you leave because of us?” he winced as the question came out much harsher than he’d intended. 

 

Prowl hesitated before responding. "Not directly, no," he murmured finally, avoiding their gaze. "I left in an attempt to clear my processor."

 

"Had us on your mind, huh?" Sideswipe quipped lightly, trying to lighten the mood. His optics brightened when Prowl flinched a little at his joke. He met his brother's gaze momentarily. "Wait, that was it? That's what drove you off base?"

 

Looking sheepishly at his hands, Prowl nodded. 

 

Frowning, Sunstreaker canted his helm at Prowl. "That's not very rational."

 

"I am aware of this," Prowl replied quietly. 

 

"Almost got yourself and Mirage slagged!" Sunstreaker knew he was raising his voice but at that moment, he just couldn't help it. The whole thing was ridiculous. "What the frag were you thinking?!"

 

"Sunny!"

 

"I wasn't!" Prowl stared at Sunstreaker. "I wasn't thinking," he softly repeated. 

 

Sunstreaker's frame rumbled with a low growl of irritation and he stepped back from the berth. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard and I'm twinned with Sideswipe so I've heard stupid--"

 

"--hey! Sideswipe's response was indignant and he frowned at his brother.

 

"You endangered not only your life and Mirage's but mine, Sides' and Jazz's too, nothing you were thinking is worth that cost, we're supposed to be the reckless ones, not you, Prowl!" Shaking his helm, ignoring his twin, Sunstreaker turned away and headed for the door. "I can't even look at you right now."

 

"I saw you!" Prowl called out after his retreating form. "With Sideswipe, in the cargo bay..." his voice trailed off into a whisper as Sunstreaker froze in his tracks and Sideswipe visibly stiffened beside his berth. Tension rippled through the medbay as Sunstreaker slowly turned back and leveled a murderous glare at Prowl. 

 

****

 

Nobody had moved in what felt like eons to Sideswipe. The tension and heavy silence were killing him. Prowl was still half laid, half sat on his berth, not looking at either of them, in fact he’d barely moved since his confession and Sunstreaker was leant against the far wall, glaring at the adjacent wall, with his arms folded in stony silence. Sideswipe could understand his brother’s reaction though, he’d killed for less to protect what little family he had and Sideswipe knew he had no qualms about killing again to keep it protected. It was different this time though. This time the threat was Prowl and Sideswipe wasn’t entirely certain that his twin was above murdering senior officers. 

 

Glancing at the said officer, from his seat closer to the berth, Sideswipe quietly huffed air through his vents in frustration. This was getting them nowhere but he honestly had no clue what to say, or whether it would really make a difference. If Sunny wanted Prowl eliminated as a threat, he’d make it look like he deactivated from unforeseen complications in the medical bay and then they would disappear off planet at the nearest opportunity. Sideswipe was stuck with his twin, for better and for worse. It was at times like this though, that he sorely wished Sunstreaker would get a decent frag now and then, his borderline, unpredictable sociopathy was hard to keep track of. Killing Prowl though, the thought of it made Sideswipe’s spark clench in his chest as he spared another glance at the black and white. Dimming his optics and bowing his helm, he opened the quiet bond shared with his twin and sent one clear message. “I’ll stop you.”

 

Before Sunstreaker could do more than stare at his brother, Prowl finally spoke, drawing the attention of both twins. 

 

“If I haven’t told anyone by now, you can rest assured that your secret is safe, at least from me,” he murmured softly, a slight frown on his face as he stared at his hands in his lap.

 

Sideswipe opened his mouth to respond when Sunstreaker beat him to it. “Why haven’t you told anyone? Why go to such glitched lengths to protect what isn’t yours?” 

 

Sideswipe flinched at the bit out, terse words and the clipped tone but he was pleasantly surprised and pleased at how well he was reining in his anger. Anger he could feel simmering over their bond, just beneath the surface. 

 

“I was compelled not to,” came the soft even reply. 

 

“Not good enough,” Sunstreaker growled out. 

 

“It’ll have to be,” Prowl snapped back sharply, his optics flicking over to the golden mech, before looking back down at his lap. “My reasons are my own. I am a mech of my word. That much you do know, your secret is safe, take it and leave.”

 

“Prowl…”

 

“You heard him, Sides’. Let’s go,” Sunstreaker interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

 

Standing, Sideswipe nodded at his brother who exited the room quickly, without looking back. The red mech hesitated though and placed a hand on the side of the berth, near enough to Prowl’s arm to get his attention, without actually touching him. “You can’t avoid us forever.”

 

Prowl momentarily met his gaze. “Perhaps not,” he answered with resignation, averting his optics. “But emotional responses, just like duty schedules, can be controlled.” 

 

Sideswipe shook his helm sadly, struck by how similarly stubborn Prowl and his brother were at that moment. He let his hand slip from the berth and walked away, resolve curling about his spark. This was not going to be the end of it. Not by a long shot


	8. Peaceful Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laptop died again so sorry for delay. Here it is. The final curtain. I hope it is what you were looking for :)

"You're being ridiculous," Sideswipe muttered sullenly from his berth as Sunstreaker paced back and forth in agitation.

"Ridiculous?" the golden mech snapped. "If they all find out. They'll separate us, permanently!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Sideswipe retorted. "But this is Prowl for Primus' sake. You know he is a mech of his word. If he'd wanted to he could've given the order already. He hasn't and I believe him when he says he won't," the red mech couldn't stop the exasperation bleeding across their twin bond. He was tired of living a secret life, sneaking around. "Besides he almost died trying not to tell everyone. That's got to tell you something, Sunny."

"Yeah, it tells me he'd rather risk his own spark avoiding us out of disgust because we're such freaks and a threat to their perfect little world," Sunstreaker countered bitterly.

"He didn't say that."

"Didn't have to."

“You know what, Sunny, I think you just want him to hate us, want him to turn us in because it’s easier for you to cut and run then rather than…” he stopped himself short, jaw clenching as he looked away from his brother.

“Rather than what?” Sunstreaker growled out, optics fixed on his twin.

“Rather than admit that this… this isn’t enough for us, for you and that maybe change would actually help us!” Sideswipe replied tersely. “But what do I know? I’m just your dumb aft twin--”

“--Sides’--”

“--No. Sunny, I’m tired of sneaking around,” Sideswipe shook his helm and pushed to his feet, stomping to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m done. I’m going to Prowl and I’m going to tell him that he can report us.”

Sunstreaker was across the room in a flash and grabbed Sideswipe’s arm, yanking him back. “You wouldn’t! After everything I’ve done to keep you safe, keep them from separating us…”

“Keep us safe? Or keep you safe?” Sideswipe bit out, immediately regretting the words as a stricken expression flashed across Sunstreaker’s face. Too wound up to take it back, he yanked his arm free and shoved his brother away. “I’m done.”

Sunstreaker stumbled back at the hard shove but didn’t fight his brother as he stormed out of their room. He stared at the closed door in disbelief. His whole world felt like it was slipping through his fingers and was spinning out of control. “Ungrateful aft!” he growled menacingly as he marched after his twin. There was no way he was going to let Sideswipe ruin everything he’d fought to protect.

****

Ratchet looked up as Sideswipe stepped into his medbay. “What’s the problem now?” he grumbled, picking up his tools.

Sideswipe shook his helm. “Nothing, is Prowl still here?”

“Discharged himself, as per usual. He’ll be either at his office or his quarters,” Ratchet replied with disinterest. “What do you need him for? I can comm. him.”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

Ratchet raised an optic ridge as the red frontliner headed back into the corridor. “Huh,” he grunted and carried on with his work, barely noticing the door swish open again a few minutes later. “I told you Sideswipe, he’s not here-- oh Sunstreaker?” the medic’s optics flickered in surprise at the sight of the golden mech looking somewhat disgruntled. “Everything alright?”

“Where’s Sides’?”

“Not here.”

“He was, you thought I was him, where did he go? Is he with Prowl?”

Frowning a little at the demanding tone, Ratchet canted his helm at the golden mech. “Have you two been fighting again?”

“None of your business,” Sunstreaker bit out. “Forget it I’ll find him myself.”

Ratchet didn’t get chance to reply and stared, perplexed at the closed door of his medbay. Shrugging, he continued with his work. After a moment he gave Prowl a heads up via the comm. Being caught between two angry, feuding twins was a dangerous place to be in and although he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how Prowl had managed to get himself embroiled in whatever petty dispute they had this time, he still didn’t deserve to be caught unaware when the fight was coming straight to him.

****

Prowl stepped into his quarters, quarters which still hadn’t been fully cleaned since the whole paint bomb incident. His doorwings drooped at just how sour the situation had become. He stood in the doorway to his quarters, staring up at the paint splattered ceiling. “Such a mess,” he sighed to himself, lowering his gaze and shaking his helm.

“Yeah, looks like we missed a few spots,” Sideswipe peered up, following Prowl’s gaze.

Prowl’s doorwings twitched and flared as he spun round. “Sideswipe! How did you… never mind… why are you here?”

“Need to talk to you.”

“Now?” Prowl frowned as his comm. bleeped at him. “Wait a moment,” he held out a hand to Sideswipe and his frown deepened when he read Ratchet’s message. This couldn’t be good.

“Yeah, if you can spare the time,” the red mech glanced down at the floor in discomfort.

“Sideswipe!”

Both mechs looked up sharply at the holler, in time to see Sunstreaker bearing down on them.

Sunstreaker wasted no time in grabbing his brother’s arm and quickly shoving him into Prowl’s quarters, forcing the Praxian to take a few hasty steps back. The door closed behind them and the golden mech squared up to his twin, his finger jabbing him hard in the chest. “I’m not letting you frag up vorns of sacrifice just because you’re done. I’m not fragging done protecting your ungrateful aft!”

“My ungrateful aft wouldn’t need protecting if you would just stop being such a glitch and ‘face other mechs!” Sideswipe threw back angrily, pushing his brother away from him.

Prowl stared in bemusement at the two mechs, not entirely sure what was happening nor why it was happening in his quarters. “What is going on?”

“Nothing!” Sunstreaker snarled quickly.

“Everything!” Sideswipe interrupted, glaring at his brother. “Prowl you should tell Prime about us.”

“You’re a fragging glitch!” Sunstreaker lost his temper and lunged for his brother, sending them both to the floor in a flurry of limbs and punches before Prowl had chance to respond.  

Canting his helm as the twins brawled on his floor, Prowl pursed his lips, this was definitely a less attractive side of them. Shaking his helm when they began yelling profanities at each other between punches, Prowl marched into his washrack and filled up two cubes, usually reserved for energon, with hot water. Walking back into his main living area, he waited for a few kliks before pouring the water over both twins.

Sunstreaker flailed and rolled onto his back as the water splashing onto his helm took him by surprise, while Sideswipe spluttered, receiving a full cube of water to the face.

“Have you quite finished behaving like two overgrown sparklings?” Prowl began succinctly, putting the cubes on a nearby table and folding his arms. He regarded them both coolly. At the resounding, stony silence, Prowl huffed. “Good. Now will somebody please tell me what is going on?”

“I came here to tell you that I don’t want you to keep our secret. Nor do I want you to avoid us because you’re attracted to us,” Sideswipe blurted out, pushing himself up to sitting.

Prowl’s optics brightened at that. “How did you--?”

“--doorwings and uh… Smokescreen,” Sideswipe pointed out with a sheepish shrug. “They did that fluttering thing in the rec room, that time I confronted you before you went missing.”

“I see,” Prowl murmured, somewhat taken aback by the revelation that they knew of his inappropriate attraction. “I take it you don’t agree,” he looked at Sunstreaker, who was glaring at the floor.

“Don’t care about how you feel. Just don’t want forced separation from Sides’. Spent our whole lives fighting it, keeping our secret,” he looked up, meeting Prowl’s gaze, his voice not without a measure of warning. “Not going to let you tear us apart.”

“Sunny!”

“Shut it, Sides’.” Sunstreaker growled back, not taking his optics off Prowl.

Prowl sighed softly and sat down on the nearby sofa. “I was never going to report it,” he explained quietly. “And yes, I am attracted to you, to you both, ever since I saw… well I saw what I saw,” he looked uncomfortable as he tried not to remember the vivid details. “It is not a feeling I am accustomed to and is directly responsible for my more than irrational behaviour of late. It is however one of the principle reasons that I decided not to report you.”

“You’re not reporting us because you… you like us?” Sunstreaker asked, not entirely certain he was hearing right.

“Primarily, yes,” Prowl confirmed, embarrassment colouring his normally even tenor.

“I don’t get it,” Sideswipe added. “How can you be unaccustomed to liking someone? Especially after seeing them ‘face? I mean come on, look at us, we’re hot!”

“Sides’!”

“Well we are!” the red mech protested. “Haven’t you uh… been attracted to anyone before?”

Sunstreaker could only plant his face into his palm with embarrassment at his brother’s bold questions and at how ridiculous the whole situation had become.

Prowl wasn’t used to being quite so open about his personal life but he felt he owed the twins some explanation after everything he’d put them through. “My coding is specialised. I have interfaced before, but only after my coding had become fixed to ensure there was no corruption or unwanted changes. The encounters happened out of curiosity more than anything else. I have not felt desire, as strong as this, since before my coding stabilised.”

“Huh,” Sunstreaker grunted with vague understanding.

“Wow, I think you’re the only mech I’ve ever met who makes ‘facing sound like a chore,” Sideswipe gave him a lopsided grin. “No offence but you kinda sucked all the fun out of it there, Prowl.”

“You have my apologies.”

“So why us?” Sunstreaker asked suddenly. “Why now?”

“I do not know. Perhaps it was witnessing your tryst in the cargo bay or that I have always been attracted to you and haven’t acknowledged or realised it, I cannot be certain,” Prowl’s doorwings fluttered with further apology and he looked down at his hands clasped somewhat nervously in his lap. “You can be assured however, that your secret is safe.”

They fell into an uncomfortably heavy silence and Sideswipe glanced at his brother, sending a curious nudge over their twin bond with a query and a suggestion.

Receiving the message, Sunstreaker’s optics brightened and he gave his brother an incredulous look and a shrug.

Sideswipe grinned and nodded. He turned back to Prowl and ignored his brother’s vehement shake of his helm. “So do you um… want to?”

Prowl glanced up at the question. “Do I want to what?”

“Sides’...” Sunstreaker muttered faintly in warning. He didn’t want to make this situation any more uncomfortable than it already was.

Sideswipe got to his feet and moved over to the sofa, sitting down beside Prowl at a respectable distance. “Did you want to ‘face us?”

Prowl simply stared, bright optic’d at the mech in astonishment.

Sunstreaker groaned and shook his helm, burying his face into his hands. Although not being entirely averse to the idea, he was certain that this was not going to end well.

“You’re being serious…” Prowl murmured, breaking the silence.

“I kinda like that you’re attracted to us and you already know about us so that’s not an issue,” Sideswipe grinned. “Besides you’re a bit easy on the optics yourself, Prowl, be a shame not to grab the opportunity,” he let his fingers reach out and brush lightly over Prowl’s leg. “Don’t you think?”

Prowl’s gaze snapped down to the fingers resting ever so gently on his leg. “Is this a prank?”

Sunstreaker huffed a short laugh, his bad mood all but dissipated now he was certain they weren’t going to be marched to see Ratchet and separated. “When it comes to ‘facing, Sides’ never pranks.”

Looking between them both in mild disbelief and no small amount of anxiety, Prowl took a moment to compose himself. “And you both… you both want this?”

Feeling his brother’s curiosity and faint thread of desire for Prowl - it helped how strangely vulnerable he seemed to have become, it made both of them want to protect him, make him feel good - over their connection, Sideswipe chuckled. “Tell me you haven’t thought about it, about us, with you, since that day in the cargo bay and we’ll leave right now and not bother you again.”

Prowl’s optics looked between the twins before finally falling to the floor in defeat. “I cannot deny that I have thought of you both… inappropriately.”

Sunstreaker met Sideswipe’s eager gaze and resisted the urge to slap his overly keen and obvious brother over the back of the helm. Moving to the sofa, he hesitated for a few kliks before sitting on Prowl’s other side.

Sideswipe grinned as his brother moved closer and he slowly slid his whole hand onto Prowl’s thigh, moving it up until the tips of his fingers brushed the seam of Prowl’s hip. “Don’t have to just think about it,” he offered demurely, scooting a little closer.

Sunstreaker noticed the hitch in Prowl’s intakes as Sideswipe moved closer and he placed a comforting hand in the middle of his back, his voice casual, light. “You can say no, if you’d rather not.”

Sideswipe nodded avidly in agreement. “Don’t feel pressured, Prowl, want you to want it too,” he added hastily, backing off a fraction, only stopping when Prowl’s hand came to rest over his, stopping him from pulling it back off his leg.

“Prowl?” Sunstreaker prompted gently when the mech sat in silence for a few more moments.

“I want it,” came the quiet admittance.

Sideswipe could feel the shimmer of nervousness in Prowl’s field and extended his own in reassurance, his hand giving Prowl’s a squeeze. “How long has it been?”

The doorwings gave a little flutter and Sunstreaker smirked a little at how much emotion could be read in such simple movements. Emotions they had, up until now, been missing the signs of. It was no wonder everyone thought Prowl was unemotional, unapproachable and cold, the mech gave nothing away in his face but everything away in his doorwings.

“Vorns,” Prowl answered, meeting Sideswipe’s warm gaze.

“Long overdue then, I’d say,” the red mech smirked, reaching up with his free hand to tentatively caress Prowl’s cheek. “Have to admit, we’ve always talked about something like this but never imagined it would happen with you.”

Sunstreaker smiled at his brother over Prowl’s shoulder and shifted closer, letting his hands splay over the doorwings fanning out either side of him. "Yeah figured we weren't your type." He added, his voice low as he pressed a soft kiss to prowl's audio.  

Prowl let out a soft noise, something akin to a sigh and mewl, his optics dimming at Sunstreaker’s gentle caress. Sideswipe watched him for a klik, enjoying seeing genuine emotion on Prowl’s handsome face. He wasted no more time and cupped Prowl’s cheek, pressing his mouth to Prowl’s, taking advantage of his slightly parted lips by brushing his glossa over the sensitive, pliable metal, before dipping it fleetingly into his mouth, the tip brushing ever so lightly over Prowl’s glossa.

Prowl whimpered at the stimulation and leaned into the kiss, his sensor net coming alive with desire and arousal. When Sideswipe pulled away, he tried to kiss him again, only to have Sunstreaker cup his other cheek and turn his helm slightly to claim a kiss of his own, a kiss that succeeded in setting Prowl’s sensor net on fire. He had imagined what it would be like to kiss the twins, fantasised even, but it paled in comparison to the real thing. Prowl melted between the two larger mechs as they traded soft and deep kisses between them, taking turns, taking their time. He moaned lowly when he felt strong hands - hands he’d watched tear into a Decepticon warrior with seeming ease - caressing his frame gently, seeking out sensitive seams and gaps in his armour. He had never imagined they could be so very gentle in their ministrations. It was thrilling to be in-between them, being willingly seduced by them, their touches causing his spark to thrum hard and fast in his chest.

Without warning, Sunstreaker grinned at his twin and moved to slide his arms under Prowl’s legs and around his back, under his doorwings, before scooping him up in his arms. He chuckled deeply in his chest at the surprised squeak and smirked at Prowl. “Contrary to what you’ve seen, we actually prefer the comfort of a berth to a cargo bay.”

Sideswipe snickered and followed his brother into Prowl’s berth room. “Though we’re flexible, all depends on when the urge grabs us.”

Prowl looked between them as he was placed carefully on the berth. “Dare I ask how often the urge grabs you?”

Sharing a look the twins shrugged. “Hard to say,” Sunstreaker answered.

“Though if you’re willing for this to become a regular thing, think frequent,” Sideswipe added with a shameless grin.

“A regular thing?” Prowl seemed surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to?” Sunstreaker sat on the berth, idly fingering a seam in Prowl’s hip joint as they talked.

"You'd want that with me?"

Sideswipe huffed a laugh. "In case you hadn't noticed, Prowl, Sunny doesn't face just anyone and we've got this whole secret twincest thing going on that everyone loves to frown about."

"So as you can imagine, we're pretty exclusive about who we choose to take to our berth and," Sunstreaker glanced at his brother, who smiled and nodded, "we can get pretty um clingy and possessive when we both like someone."

"I prefer the term protective or territorial," Sideswipe interjected thoughtfully.

"You get the idea," Sunstreaker continued. "Just a matter of whether that'd be something you'd want too. If not--"

"--if not, then we all promise to enjoy tonight and go on with our lives." Sideswipe declared, matter of factly.

Prowl fell silent and the twins looked nervously at each other but waited patiently for his answer. They’d accept it no matter what but hope that he’d want more than just a night of ‘facing echoed over their twin connection.

“I do not enter into anything lightly,” Prowl finally responded, glancing between them, his doorwings fluttering on his back. “And no matter what societal norms dictate, I do not interface simply for the sake of it.”

Sideswipe smirked at how diplomatic Prowl was being. “Prowl, is that your way of telling us, you’d like more than just a one night frag?”

Sunstreaker snorted and swatted his brother at his choice of language.

Prowl’s optics brightened and his doorwings rose slightly on his back. “If you are both amenable to that, of course. I also wouldn’t want you thinking I was just using you for my own desires or in return for keeping your secret,” he looked down at his hands anxiously.

Sunstreaker shook his helm and tilted Prowl’s helm up by the chin, kissing him soundly before the Praxian could respond. Breaking it he smiled, his optics gazing into Prowl’s. “You’re such a glitch,” he quipped lightly, nipping Prowl’s lips before kissing him again, deepening it slowly as Prowl melted against him.

Pushing him gently back onto the berth, the twins swapped kisses with Prowl a while longer, their hands caressing every inch of his frame, until his panel slid open automatically. Their ministrations continued to be gentle and coaxing as talented fingers curled into his valve and wrapped around his spike. Both twins took great pleasure and satisfaction in watching Prowl give himself over to his first overload of the evening, brought about solely by their hands and mouths. He was a delectable sight when wracked in the throes of release.

Sunstreaker shifted to sit back on the berth and tugged Prowl onto his lap, getting him to straddle him as his hands mapped his frame carefully, memorising every part that pulled a gasp or moan from Prowl’s mouth.

Sideswipe contented himself with molesting Prowl’s doorwings, which were much more sensitive than he’d envisioned and drew out the most delightful noises from Prowl’s vocaliser.

Stealing another kiss, Sunstreaker purred and murmured against Prowl’s lips. “Turn around, I’m going to spike you now, okay?”

“Uhuh,” Prowl nodded, his response somewhat dazed as he tried to focus through the haze of pleasure. Turning he sat on Sunstreaker’s lap and the mech lifted him with ease before lowering him slowly over his throbbing spike.

Sunstreaker stilled when Prowl keened and his helm was thrown back. “I hurt you?” he asked urgently, holding Prowl’s slighter frame flush to his own tightly.

“No… please… don’t stop,” Prowl gasped, his optics flickering as Sunstreaker obliged and sank his spike to the hilt.

“Frag, so tight,” Sunstreaker growled lowly, gazing at his brother who was blatantly stroking his own spike at the sight. “How’s that feel, Prowl?”

“Good, so good,” Prowl whimpered, his hips rocking eagerly, only for Sunstreaker to grip his hips more tightly.

“Heh, patience, copbot, Sides’ turn now.”

Prowl met Sideswipe’s hungry gaze with faint confusion and inhaled sharply when the red mech crawled over them and straddled him and his brother. It was only at that moment that it really sank in just how much bigger than him they were and left him in awe at how tender and gentle they were being with him.

Sideswipe curled his hand around Prowl’s spike with a lop-sided grin. “I’ll be wanting this,” he purred seductively.

“Yours,” Prowl whispered, his optics darkened with lust and arousal.

Lifting himself up, Sideswipe sank over Prowl’s spike with a low groan, optics darkening with enjoyment as his valve was spread by the mech’s wonderful spike.

The twins shared every sensation over their bond, which only intensified the feelings rushing through them, setting their sensor nets alight. Slowly they began to rock their hips, first Sunstreaker then Sideswipe, in perfect alternate time with each other, their hands roaming freely over Prowl trapped between them.

At Prowl’s illegible murmurs and groans of pleasure, Sideswipe kissed his brother over his shoulder and broke it with a chuckle. “I think he likes it.”

Building up their pace slowly, the twins focused on Prowl’s enjoyment. Their frames zinged with every thrust and roll of their hips which became more fervent and urgent as they chased down their release. At the slower pace, they all seemed to teeter on the very edge of overload, until Prowl suddenly stiffened and let out a strangled cry to the ceiling. The twins drank in the sight of him overloading between them, his whole frame shuddering. They didn’t stop there and picked up their pace until overload claimed them aswell.

Their mutual cries of pleasure soon faded as they collapsed into a sated heap on Prowl’s berth. Tangled together the twins plied Prowl’s body with playful kisses, which were, much to their surprise, eagerly returned.

It wasn’t long before their playful antics devolved into another round of processor blowing interfacing, this time much rougher and desperate as the final threads of nervousness and apprehension dissipated in a haze of mutual ecstasy and growing affection.

By the time the next cycle had crept upon them, Prowl found himself lying cocooned between red and golden plating. He felt comforted by the powerful thrum of the twins’ recharging systems and smiled to himself as he curled comfortably in the warmth that surrounded him. The night, he recalled with fondness hadn’t simply been one of carnal desire. They had talked and shared memories, stories of their lives, learning about one another mentally even as they’d indulged in each other physically. His interface array throbbed and tingled from the sudden overuse but he couldn’t remember ever feeling so contented. If this was a sign of things to come, then Prowl couldn’t think of a better start to their, unexpected but hopefully long and prosperous relationship. Fingers curling into the twins’ chests, above their sparks, he felt himself succumbing to recharge. “Nobody will ever try to separate you again,” he whispered sleepily in promise. “I’ll make sure of it.”

His systems slowing down as they entered their recharge cycle, Prowl didn’t notice the subtle tightening of the arms wrapped protectively around him.

 


End file.
